


Home and Heart

by winterlogic



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Natsume Takashi Protection Squad, No Smut, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Past Abuse, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Touch-Starved, canon whomst?, more relationships but i don't want to flood tags, shocking lack of youkai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 77,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23873704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterlogic/pseuds/winterlogic
Summary: After spending years bouncing from family to family and school to school, Takashi's learned that the best way to survive as an omega is to keep his head down and leave no traces. When he moves in with the Fujiwara couple, Takashi plans to do much the same, but they seem bound, set, and determined to upset all semblance of stability and familiarity in his life. And so does everyone else in Hitoyoshi.It's going to be a long year.
Relationships: Fujiwara Touko & Natsume Takashi, Kitamoto Atsushi/Nishimura Satoru, Natsume Takashi/Tanuma Kaname
Comments: 675
Kudos: 1029
Collections: RaeLynn's Epic Rec List





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was scrolling though tags a while ago and found that there are no A/B/O Natsume fics.... so I summoned my inner trashfire self to write this tropetastic mess. That being said, this is pretty tame as far as A/B/O fics go, and for now at least, I'm just exploring family.  
> This is so self-indulgent, try not to expect too much lol.
> 
> I can guarantee NO sex, and tw are only mentions of past abuse. I'll add more if they come up.  
> Rated T for Takashi's suffering

Takashi curled up under the stiff sheets of the hospital bed, hands pressed over his nose in a vain attempt to block the harsh, burning sterility that punched right through the hospital’s attempts at scent mufflers. It was the kind of smell that even youkai tended to avoid. He was nauseated with the intensity, and the echoing ticks of the wall clock only made it worse. Still, Takashi was thankful to have a room to himself this time—the trapped smells of other people’s pain and distress were unbearable to his over-sensitive nose.

God, he hated hospitals.

Again, he’d messed up again. The Murasaki’s, even as tolerant as they were, wouldn’t let him back after this. Takashi took a moment to mourn that loss. The Murasaki’s had been one the best families; none of them, not even their alpha father, had ever turned their pheromones on him. But that was gone now, and all because Takashi had been too careless trying to seal his youkai stalker.

Picking at the bandages on his hands, Takashi whined softly into the pillow. Who knew where he would go now? Surely they would run out of extended family and generous friends to hand him off to soon.

\--~~--

A gentle touch on his forehead woke Takashi from a hazy sleep. His limbs felt like lead, and even the prospect of opening his eyes was too difficult to contemplate, so he remained still, listening for any conversation—for him, information.

“He’s so pale, Shigeru. And too thin. I know omegas tend to have slighter statures, but this…”

A woman with a warm, melodic voice. It was her fingertips that softly brushed back his bangs, Takashi guessed. Subconsciously, he tilted his head into the touch. Her hand stuttered, but resumed in a moment with just as much care as before.

“I know, Touko. But isn’t that one of your favorite hobbies? Feeding us delicious food until we beg for mercy?” 

The voice was low and soft, and a smile was audible in his words. It seemed they were a couple, then, and though the blindingly sterile scent of the hospital was still interfering with Takashi’s senses, what little of their pheromones he could catch seemed… solid, and relaxed. Like a warm drink on a cold day. A faint spark of hope lit in his chest.

“How could this have happened?” The woman—Touko?—asked, her fingers flitting from the bandages around Takashi’s forehead to the plaster on his cheek.

A sigh from the man. “I spoke with Oota-san, and he said they found him fallen at the base of a cliff, pretty deep into the forest. No one was sure how long he’d been there, since he apparently left the house in the morning and his disappearance wasn’t noticed until after dinner. I couldn’t stand to talk to Oota-san for very long though, because he smelled more annoyed than worried, even though Natsume-kun here was just a room away.”

A brief pause.

“We’ll just have to ask Natsume-kun when he wakes up, then.”

“If he’s ready to tell us.”

“Of course.”

With his skin tingling with Touko-san’s gentle touch, the couple’s scents easing the sting of the hospital’s, and low, lulling voices at his side, Takashi slipped back into darkness, his heart light.

\--~~--

“Natsume-kun, how would you feel about living with us?”

“Yes… yes please!”

\--~~--

Every few minutes, Takashi glanced up to the front seats where the Fujiwaras were, just to reassure his stupid, broken brain that they were there and real and it wasn’t all a wishful dream. He still wasn’t fully healed from his fall, but after Touko-san had picked up on his unease at the hospital, she’d pushed to Takashi to be discharged a few days early, with strict instructions for rest and recovery, of course. They’d borrowed the Murasaki’s car to make the trip to Hitoyoshi, clearly expecting Takashi to have more luggage, but if he hadn’t been quite so injured they wouldn’t have needed the car at all. 

When Oota-san came out with the two cardboard boxes that contained Takashi’s entire life, the Fujiwaras had shared a look that Takashi didn’t want interpret. Still, he guessed it was disappointment. It was always disappointment.

Now, in the car, Touko-san or Shigeru-san occasionally spoke up to offer Takashi some tidbit of information when it came up in their quiet discussion. He would apparently be going to a highschool in easy walking distance—“when he was ready,” according to Shigeru-san. Touko-san told Takashi his room would be on the second floor, and that he could decorate it however he liked. (Takashi didn’t plan on it. He never stayed in one place long enough to make it worth the effort or contempt for his strange choices.)

He learned that both the Fujiwaras were betas, and that if there was anything Takashi needed as an omega, he only had to ask. Takashi hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He hadn’t had his heat yet, a bit of a late-bloomer, and was vainly hoping it would never come.

On arrival at the cozy, quiet Fujiwara home, Shigeru-san hefted up Takashi’s belongings, and together they led a limping Takashi to the door. Touko-san waved him inside with a smile.

The smell was the first thing to hit him, with an impact akin to a slap across face. Away from the hospital and highway fumes and the Murasaki’s car, Takashi had begun to parse the warmth of Touko and Shigeru-san’s scents, but here, in their _home_ …

Frozen in place, Takashi breathed deeply. It was fresh tempura and spring greens, old polished wood and sparkling water. He’d never smelled anything quite so _right_ before. The scents enveloped him, welcomed him in without hesitation.

Behind him, Touko-san laughed, calm and clear, and Takashi startled from his trance.

“Well, that’s promising,” she said. Both Touko-san and Shigeru-san were watching him, broad smiles on their faces, and Takashi could feel a bright flush creeping up his face.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He was being too familiar. Hurriedly he stepped aside so they could enter, eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Natsume-kun. I’m glad to see we’re compatible, at least in scent.” Shigeru-san laid a hand on Takashi’s head, just for a moment, before moving past him and to the stairs. “Come, I’ll show you your room.”

\--~~--

The room turned out to be small and mostly bare, with just a hint of mustiness that nonetheless made Takashi sneeze. Shigeru-san didn’t step through the doorway, instead lowering Takashi’s boxes to the ground and pushing them over the threshold. Puzzled, Takashi dared a glance back.

“This is your space, Natsume-kun,” Shigeru-san said kindly, “you can let us in whenever you’re ready. Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours, and Touko and I will be downstairs if you need anything. Do whatever you need to make this room yours.”

The flush that had been fading from Takashi’s cheeks came back with a vengeance, even as Shigeru-san mercifully closed the door and returned to the stairs. He knew, of course, that all the dynamics, even betas, liked to scentmark a little space for themselves, and that for omegas that “like” was more of a “need,” a biological imperative to create a private, safe place to feel at home in. In other words, a nest. 

But Takashi wasn’t sure how to feel about all of that. None of his foster families had liked it when he’d tried to carve out a corner of their house to scentmark for himself, so he’d eventually stopped trying altogether. Much easier to just keep his head down, stay out of the way, and leave a few traces of himself as possible. Besides, it was embarrassing to mark territory, what with all the rubbing of scent oils and trying to surreptitiously collect materials for a bed nest.

It was a bit strange that Shigeru-san had refused to enter the room he’d given Takashi, though. Usually the families liked to keep an eye on him for a while to make sure he didn’t mess anything up.

Stubbornly, Takashi ignored the prickling over his skin that was his inner omega trying make him begin the scentmarking process. He’d never had it happen quite this fast before. Presumably, it was because of the unusual comfort from the scents of the Fujiwara home. Takashi scowled and tore his boxes open with a little more force than strictly necessary.

\--~~--

By the time Takashi crept down the stairs for dinner, the prickling of his skin had escalated to stabbing, and his head ached. This was why he liked to spend as much time as possible outside. After all, his body couldn’t convince him to scentmark if there was no house to scentmark in.

Touko and Shigeru-san quietly welcomed Takashi to the table, and after the food was served, they asked him no questions, instead doing their best to hold casual conversation without him. For that, Takashi was grateful. Still, it was awkward when their eyes inevitably slid over to him every few minutes. Takashi kept his head ducked and ate his portion as quickly as possible.

“Thank you for the food,” he mumbled, moving to carry his dishes to the sink.

“Oh goodness, Natsume-kun!” Touko-san exclaimed. “You’re done already? We have more than enough for seconds, you know.” 

Takashi paused to decipher her words. It wasn’t a direct offer or command, and even though he was pretty sure he’d timed his eating speed well enough that he wasn’t being rude (while still allowing her and Shigeru to have some time in peace before Takashi returned to clean up), her scent was unhappy. What had he done wrong?

“I’m… very full, and it was delicious, thank you,” Takashi said uncertainly.

Touko-san made a soft noise, but nodded slowly. “If you’re sure.”

“I’ll be waiting out here whenever you’re ready for me to clean up.”

“…What?” Touko-san’s brow furrowed and Shigeru-san’s gaze focused sharply on him. Takashi did get _this_ reaction sometimes, and it was a relief to know what to do. The families would almost always tolerate him longer when he made sure to start chores right away.

“If everything works out and you stay with us more permanently, I’m sure we can work out some household tasks for you to do, but it’s your first night here, and you’re still injured! Let us take care of everything for now.” 

Touko-san’s concern was clear, and Natsume liked her even more. How had he gotten so lucky to end up with the Fujiwara couple?

Still, he shook his head firmly. “I want to thank you for letting me stay. The least I can do is a few dishes.”

A strange look passed between Touko-san and Shigeru-san.

“Well… alright. But we’re not letting you do it alone,” Touko-san insisted.

“No! I can take care of it, I promise—“

“I can’t stop you from helping, but there’s no way I can let you do it all by yourself.”

The words were very final, and with Shigeru-san’s gentle, agreeing rumble at her side, Takashi gave up. At least he would be able to do something.

Utterly wrong-footed, Takashi bowed out of the kitchen and practically fled to the sitting room. The Fujiwaras were incredibly kind, but Takashi couldn’t predict them at all. He wasn’t sure how he was going to navigate the rest of his stay with them.

\--~~--

“Shigeru… what have they done to him, that he thinks he needs to make himself useful on the very first day?”

Wordlessly, Shigeru handed Touko his handkerchief to dab at her shining eyes, and gently pulled her to his shoulder so she could brush her cheek over his scent gland. “I don’t know. But we’ll find a way to make it better.”

\--~~--

The tell-tale clatter of dishes being gathered was Takashi’s cue to return to the kitchen, and he had to brace himself against the wave of peaceful, relaxing warmth that made up the core of the Fujiwara’s scents. There was a trace of some troubled emotion still in the air, but Takashi assumed it was from his slip-up earlier, whatever it had been.

He tried to situate himself at the sink, but Shigeru-san nudged him aside to the dish rack and held out a clean, fluffy towel. Takashi blinked at it.

“We can’t have you touching all the nasty dishwater with your hands still in bandages, now can we? You’re on drying duty tonight.”

Helplessly, Takashi took the towel and the first bowl that Shigeru-san passed him, while Touko-san bustled back and forth between the table and counter. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but it seemed that once his injuries finished healing, they wouldn’t feel the need to excuse him from work anymore. 

The way Touko and Shigeru-san weaved around each other in perfect sync was one of the strangest dynamics Takashi had ever seen. He didn’t understand them at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... thanks for reading I guess? Welcome to the dumpster family!  
> Comments feed authors, and if you have any questions about my interpretation of the A/B/O world as we go, I'm happy to answer all questions. <3  
> My mostly-dead [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) if you want to look for updates


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... just wow, I was not expecting such a huge response to this indulgent little fic of mine? Y'all are amazing.
> 
> So here's your next chapter a few days early!

If the first night with the Fujiwaras had been odd, the next few days were downright bewildering. They had no commands for him other than letting one of them know when he left the house and making sure he was back before eight in the evening. Shigeru-san was at work most of the day, but Touko-san never once stopped Takashi from leaving, never even asking where he planned to go. When he came home on the third night at eight on the dot, scratched and dirty from a desperate flight from another youkai, he expected at least disappointment. Instead, Touko-san fussed over him and cleaned his cuts, nothing but worry and relief mixing in her scent, while Shigeru-san prepared him a warm bath upstairs.

Whenever he wasn’t doing his best to escape his room and his instincts, Takashi tried to find ways to help around the house. But Touko-san kept everything impeccably clean, and the only thing left for Takashi to take care of was his own territory. With nothing but his clothes unpacked and only a table, wardrobe, and futon for furniture, it wasn’t a task at all. It was making him anxious, because without chores, he had no other way to contribute to the family that he was willing to give, or that he thought the Fujiwaras would even remotely consider. He was effectively useless. And that was always dangerous.

At the end of the first week, Takashi’s final bandages came off, and Shigeru-san approached him about entering highschool. Finally getting used to the Fujiwaras disconcerting insistence upon asking Takashi for his opinion on _everything_ , he agreed, and two days later found himself staring at a brand new uniform and school supplies arrayed on his bedroom floor.

It made sense, he supposed, because the Fujiwaras had no kids of their own and therefore had no used material to pass down to Takashi, but still, brand new everything? That had to have been expensive. His unease only grew.

\--~~--

On his first day of school, Takashi shuffled uncomfortably at the door while Touko-san pressed a neatly-wrapped bento into his hands and smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt. Her fingertips lingered at his shoulder for a moment and her warm and comfortable aura shifted a little, almost as if…

Oh. She wanted to scent him. The families he’d stayed with had only ever done it for their own children, but this certainly wouldn’t be the strangest thing he’d experienced that week. Maybe Takashi could finally do something Touko-san wanted.

“You can go ahead,” he offered.

Takashi knew he should be tilting his head, or maybe lifting a wrist so she could actually reach his scent glands, but for some reason he couldn’t quite make his body move. He waited for Touko-san’s gentle touch. Instead, she only studied his face for a long second before stepping back and waving him out the door.

“If you’re not comfortable, it’s not happening, period.” She smiled. “Have a good day at school, Natsume-kun!”

The door slid shut and Takashi stumbled out onto the street. He nearly screamed. Why wouldn’t either of the Fujiwaras just take what they wanted? He knew all the terrible things that could happen to an omega at the mercy of another dynamic’s whims, but this was just _scenting_ , not— not abuse. Takashi knew his share about _that_ , and he was pretty sure the Fujiwaras weren’t even capable of such a thing. Worst of all, if it wasn’t for the fact that Takashi couldn’t figure out how to stay in their good graces, Touko-san and Shigeru-san were the perfect couple. Yet even with the best family he’d ever known, Takashi still couldn’t be happy.

Disgusted with himself, he left for school.

\--~~--

Entering a new school was always a harrowing experience. Takashi had suffered the whole gamut of reactions, from fawning over his omega status, to absent tolerance, to outright hostility. Who knew what this school would have to offer?

When he visited administrative office to arrange his schedule however, the beta teacher on duty only reviewed Takashi’s file, made no mention of his dynamic, shook his hand, and sent him off to class. And as Takashi quietly introduced himself at the chalkboard, he managed to relax when he smelled at least one other omega and no hostile atmosphere whatsoever. It seemed this class, at least, would be alright.

\--~~--

“Yo, Acchan! Did you hear we got a new transfer student in our class today? He’s another omega, _finally_ , this is gonna be great.”

“Have you actually talked to him yet?”

Well… no, I just said hi. But I need some time, okay? The guy is pretty quiet and his scent’s a bit odd, so he’s hard to approach.”

“Guess you’ll just have to hope he’s ready to put up with an omega like you, huh?”

“Rude, Atsushi. Don’t worry; no one can resist my charms in the end!”

“Yeah, I think I’ll stop at the shrine on the way home to pray for this poor guy’s sanity”

\--~~--

By the end of the day, Takashi was exhausted from the usual barrage of curious questions and dodging the hands that reached just a little too close. A headache was beginning to throb at his temple as well, and he blamed that combination for what happened when he got back to the Fujiwara home.

Touko-san had taken one sniff and sent Takashi up to his room with a cup of hot tea and cool rag, telling him to lie down and rest until dinner. The moment he stepped through the door however, the prickling urge to scentmark returned, and, tired, sore, and overwhelmed, Takashi caved, just a little. Out came the boxes, and out came each old knickknack and memory that he’d deliberately kept packed away for years. A handful of pictures, a simple bracelet from his parents, now too small to wear (the traditional first gift for an omegean child), an old book filled with incomprehensible writing that Takashi was pretty sure had come from his grandmother, a tiny, carved charm from a youkai he’d helped long ago—everything found it’s place on the table or shelves or in the closet.

Takashi hadn’t done this in ages. Now it really was _his_ room.

\--~~--

It took a few days for Takashi to notice the stare, but once he did, he often spent entire periods with the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up with the intensity of it. The source was Takashi’s fellow omega—Nishimura Satoru, he’d learned—and he had no idea why Nishimura-san was so focused upon him. In an effort to avoid him, Takashi had started hiding during lunchtimes, taking excessive trips to the bathroom between classes, and leaving school the moment the bell rang.

His best efforts never did do much to help.

Now he was sprinting through the forest, schoolbag long dropped on the ground—he’d have to find a way to get it back—while two youkai chased him relentlessly, screaming about his grandmother.

They wanted a book, they wanted names, they wanted blood and curses—Takashi didn’t know. What he _did_ know was that he was running out of strength, and if he couldn’t find a shrine soon, he might really end up dead.

The one-eyed youkai shrieked from behind, and suddenly Natsume was gasping for air with his back slammed to a tree, and for a split second he was back in that dark hallway with a drunken Tamura-san choking him against a wall, fingers too close to that special spot on his neck, whispering terrible things into his ear—

“Hey! Uh—Natsume! Are you alright?”

Takashi snapped out of the nightmare as the youkai loosened its grip in surprise. He lashed out with a kick, the youkai tumbled away, and Takashi slumped to the ground, a hand already massaging his throbbing neck.

“Natsume?”

He looked up. Nishimura-san hovered over him, confusion and concern rising in his scent.

“Hi. Please, do you know if there’s a shrine nearby?” He needed to go, now.

“A shrine? Well there’s one at the end of the shortcut path here, but—“

Takashi was already off and running. “Thank you!”

“Wha—Natsume?!” Nishimura-san called after him, but Takashi ignored it even as his heart sank. Just a few days in and already someone had seen him apparently going crazy. The peace had been good while it lasted.

\--~~--

Then, of course, he tripped over a rope, was threatened by a strange, round lucky cat who informed him he smelled even weirder than Reiko, and maybe, just maybe, made a friend.

\--~~--

At the Fujiwara home, Takashi attempted to sneak his dirty uniform and missing bag and Nyanko Sensei past Touko-san, but her ever-vigilant eye did not let them slide. So instead, Takashi hugged Nyanko against his chest, kept his head low, and braced for the anger that would surely come.

But _again_ , inexplicably, Touko-san only clucked over the state of his uniform, assured him that they would go and find his bag later if he couldn’t, and told him she would welcome a pet in the house. Never once did her scent spike.

After a bath and a fresh change of clothes, Takashi sat stunned in the middle of his room, blankly watching Nyanko Sensei devour an entire plate of tangerines. His head spun and his nerves constantly jangled whenever he was near either of the Fujiwaras, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was no way they could remain this kind and generous forever.

Right?

\--~~--

“Oy, brat.”

It was the day after Takashi had returned Hishigaki’s name and learned the true nature of the Book of Friends and his grandmother. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about Nyanko’s promise to guard him until his death.

Hesitantly, Takashi looked up from his homework. “Yeah?”

“Why are you so afraid of the humans you live with?”

He froze. “What? I’m not—“

“Your smell gets all wobbly whenever you see one of them,” Nyanko interrupted, “and I never pay much attention to you humans, but when Reiko’s did that, she was scared.”

Unable to deny it, Takashi dropped his gaze and twisted his fingers together. “Okay, I am a little bit worried, but… it’s fine. There’s nothing wrong, I’ll get over it.”

“Hrn.”

A sudden pressure at his side startled him into meeting Nyanko Sensei’s peering eyes.

“You smelled even worse when you were being chased by the youkai whose name you gave back yesterday.”

Takashi curled up defensively. “It just reminded me of something from the past is all.” Gingerly, he touched his still-tender neck. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t get in the way of anything you need me to do.”

“…If you say so,” Nyanko said eventually. “I’m going out drinking tonight, so don’t get in trouble.”

Gloomily, Takashi watched him leap out the window and transform with a roar that shook the whole house. “What kind of bodyguard just leaves to go drinking whenever they want, Sensei?”

Strangely enough, Takashi already missed his presence. Nyanko Sensei was easy to be with because he expected nothing, gave little, and, despite his ability to turn into a house-sized wolf, Takashi didn’t feel that Nyanko would hurt him at all. Not the same way humans would.

He lay down in the darkened room that didn’t smell quite right and fell into an uneasy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trick authors into writing by leaving comments uwu  
> I'm glad to see you all here in the dumpster family :D  
> My [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) if you want to look for updates


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The saga continues... with soft family fluff and healing.
> 
> Y'all are so nice to me down in the comments, I really have feelings every time I open my inbox :')
> 
> Side note: in case any of you were following Scraps of Life when I wrote under Rhynne, I've unfortunately decided to cancel it, at least for the time being. Full details on my tumblr (link in the bottom notes) if you'd like.

On Saturday, when the bruises on Takashi’s neck had finally faded and he was trying to decide how best to escape the painful, stifling atmosphere of his own room and house, Touko and Shigeru-san caught him off guard by offering to bring him on their monthly shopping trip in the city. 

Takashi didn’t understand why they’d _want_ to have him tag along for a whole day, but then again, when had the Fujiwaras not baffled him with every choice they made? With no real reason to refuse, Takashi agreed, and an hour later they were on the train and away.

Their first stop was a small pottery store to replace a cup Shigeru-san had dropped a few days before when Takashi had been careless enough to bump into him in the kitchen. Shigeru-san had temporarily banned him from the kitchen when he desperately apologized and tried to immediately pick up the shards.

“Natsume-kun,” Touko-san called, and Takashi hurried over. “What do you think of this one?”

She was holding up a white ceramic cup with blue glaze dripping down the sides. It was pretty enough.

“I— whatever you want, Touko-san,” he mumbled.

“Hmm, not quite right then,” Touko-san said as she gently returned it to the shelf. “If you see anything you like, just let me know.”

A glimmer to the left caught Takashi’s eye, and he wandered down the aisle to find it. At first glance the cup was a clean, rich black. But when he held it up to the light, the ceramic sparkled with a thousand tiny crystals and the glaze shimmered rainbow. Back in the shadows, it returned to innocuous simplicity. Something about it called to him.

Anxiously, Takashi clutched the cup in both hands and turned around. “Um… Touko-san?”

“Oh! Did you find something?” She bustled over.

“I—I like this one.” Takashi held his prize out and Touko-san took it into the light, eyes widening in wonder.

“It’s beautiful. This is perfect, Natsume-kun, thank you!”

Her scent bloomed through the air, warm and fresh and clearly delighted. Takashi relaxed in spite of himself, and even Shigeru-san looked over in surprise.

It was entirely too great a reaction over a teacup, but Takashi wasn’t sure what else could be making Touko-san so happy, so he brushed it off.

\--~~--

After a short trip to the grocery store, they visited a block of thrift shops in search of new clothes. Touko-san found a heavy coat for winter, and Shigeru-san held up increasingly outrageous sparkly and see-through outfits that had Touko-san swatting him on the arm and filling the shop with bright laughter. Takashi couldn’t hold back a smile.

They were so comfortable together, so unlike how previous foster families had treated him, and even each other. He ached with want.

Still, he decided he’d used up his quota of “wanting” for the day at the pottery store, so when Touko-san tried to buy him something too, Takashi turned her down as firmly as he could. Better safe than sorry. And besides, he had everything he could possibly need at home.

\--~~--

Lunch was next on the agenda, so they found a busy café filled with an overwhelming wash of smells, both food and human. Takashi suddenly wished he’d thought to bring a mask.

The (masked) omega behind the counter gave him a sympathetic look when she saw him cringing and added a drink to their order for free. Thankfully, Shigeru-san led them away from the restaurant area and out to an open-air courtyard nearby. The scents were much more manageable, and the comforting polished-wood-and-fresh-bread of the Fujiwara’s pheromones overtook anything else in the area anyway. Takashi ate in peaceful silence.

\--~~--

Their final destination was a new five-story mall that Touko-san was eager to scout out. Without a particular goal in mind, her and Shigeru-san agreed that it would be best to split up and explore for a while and meet at the entrance in an hour or two. Unwilling to wander the mall on his own, Takashi stayed with Shigeru-san. 

The place was crowded, and although not quite as bad as the café from before, Takashi had to swallow down nausea with every step. He cursed his useless, oversensitive nose.

Casually, Shigeru-san took them in and out of stores whenever something caught his eye, and Takashi stuck close to his heels. One of the floors contained an entire department store of nothing but closely packed food stands, and it took the two of them nearly twenty minutes to escape the maze. By that point, Takashi was practically clinging to Shigeru-san’s side. He hated crowds so much.

Takashi was forced to admit defeat when Shigeru-san poked his head into a store that reeked of colorfully-scented soaps and saccharine perfume. He sat heavily down on a bench just outside, and Shigeru-san gave him an apologetic look.

“I’ll only be a minute; they might have a good gift for Touko.”

Takashi nodded weakly, and Shigeru-san hurried inside. 

An uncomfortable shiver rattled down Takashi’s spine, and he looked up, all his senses on edge. To the left of his bench, a cluster of teenagers were whispering and stealing glances at him. Quickly, Takashi returned his gaze to the ground, but the damage had been done.

“He’s kinda cute, huh? You should ask him,” one of the girls giggled.

The tallest girl in the group started walking toward him, exuding alpha confidence in waves, and Takashi’s heart sank.

“Hey there,” the girl called, “you all by yourself today?”

Takashi dragged his head up to meet her eyes. “No,” he mumbled.

“Aww. Then are you here with your partner?” She lifted a delicate eyebrow.

He could lie. But it would be proven wrong pretty quickly. “…No.”

The girl leaned in, and Takashi tried to scoot away. “Really? Well—“

She stopped; eyes wide. “Oh! You’re an omega? Gosh, your scent is so muted I thought you were a beta. But this is even better! How about spending the rest of the day with me?”

The time between presentation and first heat or rut usually left a person’s scent weak and indistinguishable. Takashi had taken advantage of that fact many times to be viewed as a beta, but it seemed even his own particularly blank scent couldn’t fool an alpha at this range.

“Sorry, but no thank you,” Takashi said, leaning all the way over the far side of the bench, hoping she would get the hint and leave. No such luck.

“Come on, it’s not anything _special_ ,” she wheedled, “I just want to take a cute omega out for coffee.”

“Please, no, I’m not interested.” Takashi could feel his hands starting to shake. The girl’s scent was overpowering and cloying in his nose.

She took a step back with a frown, and Takashi shrank under the weight of it. You never, never, never made an alpha angry.

“You’re not very—“

That was as far as the girl got before a wisp of a familiar scent reached Takashi’s nose and he looked back up just in time to see Shigeru-san’s hand on her shoulder, firmly pulling her away.

“He said no, so respect that.” Shigeru-san stared her down. “And I’ll thank you to leave my son alone.”

Takashi started at the title, and there was a moment of silence.

“Fine.” Her shoes clacked on the tile and her indignant, ozone-sharp scent faded as she returned to her little group.

Suddenly Shigeru-san was kneeling before him, mouth moving and palms held up and open. Why wasn’t he actually speaking?

The hands moved slowly, up and around the back of Takashi’s head, forming a gentle, solid pressure that coaxed his entire body down, down, until his nose was pressed against Shigeru-san’s neck. Takashi tried to inhale, but realized he was hyperventilating too hard to take a breath. When had that started?

Gradually, Shigeru-san’s low, soothing voice reached his ears. “She’s gone now, none of them can hurt you. I’ve got you, you’re safe. I won’t make you stay a minute longer after this. Please, Takashi-kun, you have to breathe. I’m here.”

Takashi hiccupped, and finally his breathing began to slow. The sturdy scent of old, dark wood and fresh spring water filled his nose and chased out the remnants of the alpha’s sting. Warmth trickled all the way down into his toes.

Softly, Takashi whined, still feeling as though every sense was reaching him though a thick fog. Warning flags were popping up in the back of his mind, but the rest of his body was too relaxed and exhausted to pay attention.

“Oh, thank goodness, Takashi-kun.” Shigeru-san’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, and suddenly he wasn’t too tired to ignore all the flags that were now outright screaming in his brain.

Takashi shot upright, nearly toppling off the bench in his haste. He’d just—he’d just _scented_ Shigeru-san after one little upset, like a child, like a... like family.

Son. Shigeru-san had called him his son.

Trembling, Takashi peered up at the man still crouched in front of him. “Shigeru-san… I’m—I’m sorry—“

“You have nothing to apologize for. And I meant everything I said.”

His scent was painfully sincere, and to Takashi’s horror, he felt tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes.

“Would it be alright for me to keep calling you Takashi? I’d like to be your friend, not just a guardian. If not, of course, I’ll stick with Natsume, but—“

“No,” Takashi choked out, “no, I think that’s okay. I… I’d like that too.”

And it _was_ okay, all of a sudden, like the satisfying snap of a puzzle piece in its place. Surrounded by Shigeru-san’s gentle, welcoming scent, all Takashi could do was try and keep his swimming eyes from spilling over.

“Come, Takashi-kun,” Shigeru-san said, holding out a hand. “Let’s find Touko and get you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3  
> My [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) if you want to look for updates


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHA all the indulgent tropes!!! And it's time for Natsume to make some friends :D

Shigeru-san only needed to tell Touko-san half the tale before her scent rose with a strange mix of rage and comfort and she pulled them both out of the mall and back toward the station. The ride back to Hitoyoshi was quiet on the mostly-empty train, but Shigeru-san still kept a soothing hand on Takashi’s back the entire way, and Takashi found he didn’t mind.

When they reached home, Takashi stumbled to his room to try and sort out his thoughts— and instincts. Nyanko Sensei only offered him a brief grunt of acknowledgement before going back to sleep, and Takashi was left mostly alone to battle his inner omega. 

Now that he’d scented Shigeru-san—and his face still burned when he remembered it—his instincts had apparently decided that the smells in the house were safe, cozy, and part of his territory, instead of an uneasy reminder that he didn’t belong. Naturally, this meant that his body could no longer find a reason to avoid completing his nest here, but it clearly didn’t understand the realities of life. No matter how much Takashi wanted it now, he had to remember that this family was temporary, and the less he invested in them, the less he would have to tear himself away.

He had to get out.

Digging his nails into his palms to block out the stabbing urges to nest, Takashi fled past a startled Touko-san and into the yard, breathing in the clean, neutral air.

“Natsume-kun? What’s wrong?” Touko-san appeared in the doorway.

Of course. Takashi’s distress was so strong he could smell it on himself, and Touko-san was too good to just leave him like that.

“Natsume-kun?”

He looked up. Touko-san was right in front of him, hands fluttering and worry radiating in waves.

“I don’t know. I just… air. I needed to get out of the house.” Takashi mumbled. He was causing the Fujiwaras nothing but trouble today, it seemed.

“I see.”

There was a pause. Takashi scuffed a heel over the stone.

“May I hug you?”

Startled, he met Touko-san’s clear, serious eyes. Her arms were already open, and her scent was easing into something warm and inviting.

Why? Takashi wondered for the thousandth time. Why, when he wasn’t having a stupid panic attack and there wasn’t anything to protect him from? Why, when he was surely going to be passed on to the next family member soon anyway? But no matter how much he tried to figure the Fujiwaras out, it never changed anything. So, hesitantly, Takashi shuffled into Touko-san’s reach and she firmly wrapped her arms around him. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with his hands, but then Touko-san brushed her nose over his shoulder, just for a second, and suddenly it felt right to lift his hands to her back and dip his cheek to her neck.

There were tears sliding over his nose and dripping off his chin, Takashi realized. Mortified, he pulled back, but Touko-san gently secured her hands over his waist and ducked a little to meet his lowered gaze.

“Please, Natsume-kun, what’s wrong? I want to help you,” she pleaded.

“…It hurts.” His voice cracked, but Takashi couldn’t stop the words from spilling over. “I can’t be in my room because I need to… need to _nest_ , but I can’t because you won’t like it and I’ll have to leave again soon and I don’t want to do that because I— I _like_ you. I like it here with you and Shigeru-san, and I don’t understand either of you but you’re still my favorite family. And.” 

Takashi realized he was gasping like he’d run a mile. He tried to find more words, better words to explain, but nothing came. “I don’t know.” He finished in a whisper.

“Oh, Takashi-kun,” Touko-san pulled him in close again, and she didn’t seem to care about the steady flow of tears that now landed on her nice shirt. “I’m sorry we haven’t made things clear enough to you. I wanted to make sure you had your own independence instead of us telling you about every little thing or limiting your choices. But it looks like I didn’t understand how you lived before us.”

Touko-san leaned back and placed her hands on his shoulders. “We’ll work this out. Are you able to come back inside?”

Numbly, Takashi nodded and followed her into the house. Shigeru-san was at the table watching them come in, his eyes alert and scent deliberately calming. Takashi sniffed one last time and tried to surreptitiously dry his cheeks with his sleeve.

Once he was settled with their newly-purchased mug of hot tea before him, Touko-san turned to him.

“First of all, I can assure you that nothing would make Shigeru and I happier than if you made that room your home. I’m afraid I’m not the most knowledgeable on nesting habits, but I do have a pile of pillows and blankets waiting for you. Take whatever you need, Takashi-kun.” Touko-san said earnestly.

“And we’re certainly not getting rid of you, unless it ever happens that you no longer want to stay with us,” Shigeru-san added. “I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but we love you, Takashi-kun. We’re ready to take care of you for as long as you’ll allow it.”

Takashi could barely speak though the thick lump in his throat. “But… I’ve only been causing trouble for you. I jump at things that aren’t there and get hurt all the time and I’m nothing but a liar,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “and a monster.”

“I heard all those things from other family members at our last reunion,” Shigeru-san said evenly, “and I’ve decided I don’t believe any of them. And it’s unacceptable that they’ve made you believe that about yourself.”

The tears were back, and Takashi was helpless to stop them. “Really I can stay?”

“We want you here, Takashi-kun,” Touko-san said with a smile. “This is your home too.”

“Okay,” Takashi choked out. “Thank you. Thank you, _thank you_.”

Touko-san only picked up his hand to hold between her own, briefly rubbing their wrists together. “Would you like those blankets now or later?”

“Now, please?”

“Of course.”

\--

There were so many soft things in Touko-san’s collection that all three of them had to carry a full armload to take everything in one trip. Touko and Shigeru-san dropped their bundles just inside his room, gave a final reassurance that Takashi was welcome to do whatever he liked with his space, and left him to it.

Now that Takashi was actually ready to obey his instincts, the prickling over his skin had calmed, and he could actually think clearly in his own room. Nyanko Sensei spent a few minutes sniffing at all the new blankets and griping about Takashi’s messy scent, before announcing that he had urgent business to take care of and promptly leaping out the window. And then Takashi was alone.

Suspiciously, he lifted one of the heavier blankets up to eye level and took a quick sniff at its mostly-blank scent. Takashi really had no idea what he was doing. Presumably, he was supposed to be “following his instincts,” but without having ever gotten good look at another omega’s nest, even his own body was uncertain. For all their earlier demands that he do this, his instincts certainly were useless.

In the end, Takashi only used a few of the many blankets he’d been given. Arranging them in a loose ring atop and around his futon yielded a sufficiently soft and Takashi-shaped space that still seemed a little over-the-top when he studied it. Takashi sighed. At least the feeling of being utterly lost was familiar by now. Hurriedly, he pushed the rest of the piles to the side. He could give them back to Touko-san later.

As for the scenting of his room… it had naturally begun to smell a bit like him after living in it for a few weeks, so Takashi decided there wasn’t much else to do. Half-heartedly, he smudged his wrist glands over the surface of his study desk and the fabric of his futon—the most-used objects in his room.

Still, as little as he liked the nesting process, Takashi was relieved that his own body had finally stopped attacking him. Carefully, he dragged the leftover heaps of bedding out the door and back to the closet Touko-san had pulled them from. If the delicious smells from the kitchen were any indication, dinner would be ready soon.

\--~~--

After their conversation on Saturday, living with the Fujiwaras became a good deal easier, and a good deal stranger at the same time.

Now, mornings occasionally started with a hug or passing hair-ruffle when Takashi went downstairs for breakfast. It was awkward, because he had no idea how to properly respond to the… affection the Fujiwaras had suddenly unleashed upon him.

A new magnet had taken up residence on the fridge, pinning a list of two or three chores for Takashi to do that day.

Before he left for school, Touko-san would always ask if she could scent him. Takashi shocked himself to find that the answer was often “no.” But even on the days when his skin crawled at the thought of her touch, Touko-san only nodded and smiled, and sent him on his way.

Whenever Takashi’s darker thoughts came creeping in or a youkai stalked him home and his scent soured, Touko or Shigeru-san always picked up on it and quietly brought him to the kitchen to make him a cup of tea and surround him in their protective scents.

Touko-san had taken to informing Takashi every morning of her plans for the day, so he could know what she needed or when she would return. Just that small bit of structure, of control, was a huge relief. In return, whenever Takashi came home late or covered in dirt and scratches, she would ask him where he had been— and nothing more. Her scent never betrayed even a hint of fear or frustration.

Takashi was actually beginning to believe that the Fujiwaras were serious about keeping him.

\--~~--

Although Takashi was at last getting comfortable at home, school was a different story, though not for any reason he'd experienced before. Every day he was relentlessly followed by Nishimura-san who, as far as Takashi could tell, had decided that his life would not be complete until Takashi was his friend. And Takashi wasn’t sure what to think about that, so he did what he’d always done best— run and hide.

One week passed, then two, Nishimura-san redoubling his efforts to catch Takashi every time. He was a little impressed by Nishimura-san’s tenacity, to be honest. But for all that he could never avoid youkai notice; Takashi had long since learned that he had an almost supernatural ability to slip by human attention. He stayed firmly out of Nishimura-san’s grasp.

As the days had gone on however, Takashi couldn’t help but notice things in the life of his stalker. He learned that Nishimura-san was very popular, though not in a flashy, overt way. It was simply how he could greet everyone he passed in a hallway, the way he naturally drew attention whenever he entered a room, how he thrived in conversation, always animated and charismatic. He wielded his omegean charm in an easy flood, the polar opposite of how Takashi used his own aura to remain small and cold and unthreatening.

Nishimura-san also spent a good deal of time with a taller, dark-haired alpha, who Takashi had figured out was his childhood friend Kitamoto. Kitamoto-san was both opposite of and complementary to Nishimura-san. Calm where the omega was excited, organized where he was spontaneous, and realistic where he was optimistic. Even their pheromones were a smooth mix of sweet and spice. The only other people Takashi could think of who fit so perfectly together were the legendary “fated pair” Kaguya-san and Daiichi-san from eighth grade, and the Fujiwaras. 

So Takashi didn’t think Nishimura-san would be a bad person to be friends with, necessarily, it was just… a lot. Nishimura-san had dozens of friends already, and if it was specifically another _omega_ friend he wanted, there were a few others in school, all of whom were surely warmer and more interesting and safer to be around than Takashi. Better for him to just continue dodging Nishimura-san until he lost interest and moved on.

\--~~--

Apparently, he’d spoken too soon. Two more weeks in, and Nishimura-san remained relentless. With fewer places to hide and sporting a sprained wrist from where a furious youkai had wrenched Takashi’s arm around before Nyanko Sensei had arrived to protect him, Takashi was honestly worried about his future escape success.

But as it happened, it wasn’t Nishimura-san who finally managed to corner him, but Kitamoto-san. Takashi blamed the youkai. He’d been up all night returning names to an endless parade of them, and now he was too tired to keep his eyes open. Kitamoto-san found him on the ground behind a cluster of bushes, his chosen hiding spot for the day’s lunch break.

“Whoa. Natsume?”

Takashi jerked back into wakefulness, looking up into Kitamoto-san’s concerned eyes with dismay.

“Hiding from Sacchan to get some sleep, huh?” Kitamoto-san said wryly. He squatted at Takashi’s side.

His scent was odd. Takashi had never met a fully-presented alpha with such muted pheromones before. He almost wanted to compare the smell to coffee, if the coffee had just a touch of spice. It was still pleasing though—and that was even stranger, because Takashi normally couldn’t stand alpha scents.

“Well…” Takashi hedged.

Kitamoto-san laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t turn you in. I just heard the bushes rustle and came to check it out.”

He paused. “Sacchan really does want to get to know you though. Do you dislike him that much?”

Takashi delicately scented the air. Kitamoto-san seemed only mildly curious, not accusing. “It’s… not that. I just don’t like attention, and I know Nishimura-san gets a lot of it.”

“I see.” Kitamoto-san frowned. “This might be presumptuous, but would you be okay with it if he met you somewhere less crowded than school?”

Takashi blinked. “I… guess? But Kitamoto-san, why does he want to track _me_ down so badly? There are other omegas here who would make much better friends.”

Kitamoto-san shuddered. “Oh god, no need for the –san. Just call me Kitamoto, or Atsushi if you’re up to it. And as for why you specifically… I’m really not sure.” He scratched the back of his head. “Who knows what goes on in Sacchan’s brain? I think he found you interesting, and whatever happened when he ran into the forest after you that one day had him really worried.”

“Oh.”

Takashi supposed that seeing another kid being choked and pinned to a tree by apparently nothing _would_ be disturbing. Maybe it would be better to just stop Nishimura-san from worrying and hopefully end the stalking.

“Where would be a better place to meet him, then?”

Kitamoto tilted his head. “…You know that park past the Yatsuhara shrines? It doesn’t get too crowded after school, I think.”

He did know. “Sure.”

Kitamoto nodded as the warning bell sung through the air. “I’ll tell Sacchan. See you then.”

Faintly, Takashi wondered what he’d just gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh I can't wait for Nishimura and I wrote him.  
> Feed me with comments o.o
> 
> My [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) if you want to check for updates


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mah bby Nishimura is here! And Natsume is more confused than ever.  
> Also, y'all, 100 kudos in a month??? I'm shook.

It was with no small amount of trepidation that Takashi made his way to the designated park and settled on the edge of a bench by the pond.

He didn’t have to wait long. When Nishimura-san caught sight of him, he actually came sprinting over, screeching to a halt before Takashi and gasping for air.

“You’re really here,” Nishimura-san panted, eyes wide and wondering. “I’ve been chasing you for actual weeks, and it’s Acchan who manages to track you down? I thought my omega radar was better than this.” 

He was pouting, Takashi realized. “I— sorry.” What was he apologizing for? “I’ve always been… good at hiding.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Nishimura-san eyed him. “So!” he stuck out a hand, “wanna be friends?”

“…Friends?” Takashi wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when Nishimura-san had been declaring his intentions for weeks now, but the directness was shocking.

“Yeah! Pals, bros, partners in crime, whatever. Us omegas gotta stick together, right?”

Nishimura-san’s exuberance tasted sweet and sparkling in the back of his throat, and Takashi was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’,” Nishimura-san laughed, “you seem like a cool guy, Natsume. I wanted to get to know you.”

That answered… exactly none of Takashi’s questions, but Nishimura-san seemed to think that was all he needed to say, and Takashi wasn’t quite sure how to ask for what he had to know.

“Well… I guess.” Takashi said at last, and Nishimura-san cheered.

Grabbing Takashi’s hand before he could pull it away, Nishimura-san shook it vigorously up and down a few times. “Are you fully presented yet? Your scent is pretty neutral. Or are you like Acchan?”

Takashi startled. It wasn’t _exactly_ taboo to discuss presentation status, but normally it wasn’t something told to people you’d known for all of a minute (he was going to pretend the weeks of inadvertent eavesdropping didn’t count). But Nishimura-san’s scent was only light and curious, and Takashi found he didn’t mind answering. “No… not yet.”

“A late-bloomer then.” Nishimura-san nodded sagely. “In that case, I am hereby designating myself as your omega parent.”

Takashi choked on nothing. “…Sorry?”

“You’re living with a beta couple, right? I heard some stories. Anyway, that means you don’t have an omega friend or guardian or anything to help you when you hit your heat“—Takashi flushed at that—“so I’m now your parent!” Nishimura-san beamed.

Takashi had officially reached new levels of lost. Was everyone in Hitoyoshi just utterly out of their minds?

“Now come back here and sit. I am going to tell you about my life, and then you are going to tell me about yours, and then we’re going to be best of friends.” Nishimura-san announced. “So, I’ve got one older alpha brother who’s a workaholic, and two strict alpha-alpha parents who are disappointed to have me since I’m a statistical improbability. How about you?”

\--~~--

“How’d it go, Sacchan?”

“…I dunno.”

“What a rare response. What does that mean?”

“It means… I know I confused him for a while, so at first I thought it was that, but… there’s something really sad about him, Acchan. His scent isn’t just unpresented, I’m pretty sure it’s _repressed_. And he told me he’s only been in Hitoyoshi with his guardians for a couple of months, and that before this he’d been passed from relative to relative his whole life. That was pretty much all I could drag out from him about his family.”

“So you think…”

“Yeah. He reminds me a lot of my cousin. I’m pretty sure somewhere along the line he’s been… abused.”

“God, I was hoping I’d be wrong about that.”

“Sorry, Acchan, no dice. He doesn’t seem to know the first thing about being an omega, and based on the way he hides his scent? I’d even bet he’s been hurt for being one. I like to think prejudice like that has mostly died down by now, but I guess change is slow in coming.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing he has you to take care of him now. Never thought I’d say that.”

“Again, _rude_.”

\--~~--

By the end of the week, Takashi knew everything about Nishimura from his favorite color (post-exam-week sky blue) to the pets he’d had as a child (two fish, a turtle, and a black cat) to the order his family got up in the morning (his brother, his dad, his mom, and finally Nishimura himself). Most of his lunch breaks were now spent beside Nishimura and Kitamoto, listening attentively to all the details of their lives. Takashi still tried to divert their attention when his own life came up in conversation. No matter how well-intentioned, people who knew about him would hurt him, and Takashi could never manage to keep his strangeness hidden when he talked for too long. He’d already made his mistakes, and he wasn’t eager to try again.

And then, slowly, the spheres of Takashi’s life began to merge. One day at the dinner table, he shyly mentioned that someone had asked to be his friend, never actually saying who it was. The next morning, Nishimura and Kitamoto were waiting at the doorstep to walk with him to school. (Takashi never did find out how Touko-san had managed that.)

Nyanko Sensei, under the guise of “making sure he was safe,” came to school with Takashi and spent an entire day spying on him and Nishimura and Kitamoto. When they’d arrived back home, Nyanko had sniffed disdainfully and pronounced them “passable.” Takashi was touched by his concern.

The three of them sometimes met to do homework at a park or café, and after a week of that, Kitamoto’s house. His sister, Mana, was very nice, but had a bubbly fascination with Takashi that left his skin itching whenever she was around for too long. Somewhat guiltily, Takashi was glad she was usually out when they were in.

The first time Takashi was invited to Kitamoto’s room was a bizarre experience. He’d been in alpha’s rooms before of course, but usually to clean or stay out of the way. Never as a friend. Curiously, Takashi scented the air. It was filled with the same spiced-coffee scent that Kitamoto always had, without a hint of the alpha musk Takashi thought would surely exist in an alpha’s territory. It was clean and pleasant—unlike previous scents he’d endured—and Takashi felt comfortable enough to sit, albeit cautiously, on the edge of Kitamoto’s well-blanketed bed. 

Nishimura, of course, was rambling about the room like it was his own, practically scentmarking the place. Kitamoto had no reaction whatsoever to what was surely a massive breach of territory and privacy. Usually, that kind of thing meant…

Oh. Takashi had to look away; embarrassed just watching the scene.

From then on, Kitamoto’s room hosted their study sessions a few times a week. Takashi still had no idea why he, out of all the people that Nishimura and Kitamoto seemed to be friends with at school, was the only one hanging out with them all the time; but asking Nishimura was like asking a chattery, evasive brick wall, and Kitamoto only studied him for a long moment before walking away with a curious smile. So Takashi resigned himself to remaining in the dark.

After that first day in the park, neither of them asked Takashi about his past, and though he was always tactile and animated, Nishimura left Takashi his personal space, never touching unless Takashi agreed. And from the very first day they’d met, Kitamoto hadn’t acted like any alpha Takashi had known. Instead, they bought him sweet things that he’d spent years pretending he didn’t like, shielded him from rare, leering gazes at school, taught him how to fish and ride a bike, and waited to walk him to school almost every day.

Hesitantly, he was even beginning to think of them as real friends.

\--~~--

“Hey, Natsume,” Nishimura spoke up one day at lunch on the rooftop. “Whaddya think the Fujiwaras would say if we asked to come over?”

They would be nothing short of ecstatic. Touko-san had practically been begging Takashi to bring his friends over for days now. But Takashi didn’t like where this was going.

“I don’t think they’d mind… but why?”

“We-ellll, we’ve been studying over at Acchan’s house pretty much every time now, eating all his food and disturbing his family. So I thought it would be a good time for a change!”

Kitamoto snorted. “Since when have you cared about eating my food? You just want to see Natsume’s house.”

“Yeah, okay, fine, I want to see your place.”

“But… you’ve already been to my house,” Takashi hedged.

Nishimura rolled his eyes. “I’m bad at making excuses, Natsume, not stupid. If you don’t want us over, that’s totally okay and I get it, I promise. Acchan still has lots more snacks for us to eat.” He grinned.

Takashi remained silent for a moment. If he did bring them over, what would be the harm? He was almost certain the Fujiwaras wouldn’t be mad, and they would probably end up studying in the living room, not his bedroom. Stunned, he realized he couldn’t think of a single reason why he _shouldn’t_ let them come.

“Earth to Natsume?”

“Yeah— ah, no, I think that will be okay. But maybe… tomorrow? I want to ask the Fujiwaras first.”

“Yes! Of course, check with them. I’ll even bring the food, so you don’t have to worry about that,” Nishimura said gleefully.

“We promise to behave,” Kitamoto added dryly. “Mana’s been baking again, so I’ll bring something too.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem with Touko-san around.”

“What?”

\--~~--

That night, as Takashi helped collect dishes off the dinner table, he rehearsed his request in his head one last time and took a calming breath.

“Um… Touko-san? Shigeru-san?”

They both turned from their places by the sink. “What’s up, Takashi-kun?” Shigeru-san prompted.

“My friends… Nishimura and Kitamoto? want to come here after school tomorrow to study. Would… would that be alright?”

Touko-san gasped, and Takashi flinched. He knew, he _knew_ the Fujiwaras would never be mad at him, but he still hated asking for things that would only be a burden on his hosts.

“You invited friends over?” Touko-san said, a waver in her voice.

Technically, Nishimura had invited himself over, but that wasn’t important. Takashi kept his eyes on the floor and nodded.

Touko-san’s warm scent suddenly filled his nose, and her arms wrapped gently around his shoulders. “I’m proud of you, Takashi-kun. Of course they can come. I’ll go pick up something tomorrow for a snack.”

Proud? Takashi wasn’t sure why she was proud of him, but the relief that she’d agreed was singing through his veins, and it left no room for other confusing thoughts.

“You don’t have to buy anything, Touko-san. I think they’re both planning to bring food,” Takashi mumbled into her shoulder.

Touko-san briefly pressed her nose to his neck and pulled back. “Hmm. Well in that case, I’ll just try out a few new recipes I’ve been saving!”

“I’ll be home a little earlier tomorrow, so your friends are welcome to stay for dinner as well. I’d love to meet them,” Shigeru-san said, a smile crinkling his eyes.

“Thank you,” Takashi managed, before hurriedly returning to his task to recover himself. When he turned around a handful of seconds later, Touko and Shigeru-san were leaning comfortably against each other like the sparrows that gathered for warmth on cold winter branches, noses tucked into the other’s neck, eyes closed and scents mingling. It made for a decidedly… intimate picture, and Takashi whipped back around so fast he nearly dropped a stack of plates onto the floor. 

Something deep in his chest stung when the scene inevitably popped up again in mind’s eye, even as his face burned. The two of them fit so perfectly together in every way, warm and kind and whole. Takashi looked down at his hands— cold, empty, and scentless. He was just a liar with a broken scent who saw monsters and brought nothing but trouble. Leaving the dishes on the table, he quietly slipped from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHA the angst isn't over yet
> 
> My [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) if you want to check for updates


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oho? You want... more suffering? Wish granted.
> 
> Also I'm no longer responding to _every_ comment, but just know I love and cherish everything y'all send me even if it's just !!!!!!!!!akjsdbgusg<3<3<3<3

Takashi had been sitting stiffly in the living room for nearly half an hour, nerves jangling every time the wind rattled the door by the time Nishimura and Kitamoto shouted their arrival.

He knew it was irrational, but anxiety never listened to the logical side of things. It was only the warm solidity of Nyanko Sensei on his lap, and the small part of him looking forward to being with his friends that kept Takashi from just calling the whole thing off.

He shoved a disgruntled Nyanko to the side and went to let them in as Touko-san appeared from the kitchen with a heaping tray of food.

“Hi, Touko-san! It’s nice to see you again,” Nishimura greeted cheerfully as he pulled off his shoes, and Kitamoto bowed at his side.

“It’s lovely to see you too, especially here,” Touko-san laughed. “Make yourselves comfortable boys, you’re welcome for as long as you like.”

Takashi still wasn’t sure how they knew each other so well.

On her way out, Touko-san paused next to him and pressed her wrist gland to Takashi’s own. “Are you going to be okay?” she murmured.

Ah. His scent must be giving away his fear, then. Nishimura and Kitamoto had probably noticed it too, but they were too polite to mention it. Takashi nodded firmly.

Touko-san gave his hand a quick squeeze before leaving the three of them to their own devices.

Nishimura and Kitamoto were already relaxed at the low center table, spreading their books and worksheets out over its surface. Nishimura and Nyanko Sensei were eyeing each other suspiciously as Kitamoto looked on in amusement. They smelled more comfortable in his home than Takashi did. How did they manage it?

With a quick shake of his head to clear it, Takashi sat down beside them just as Nishimura pulled out his math homework and began his first mental breakdown.

\--~~--

Despite Takashi’s fears, their study session that day went exactly the same as most of their previous ones— that is to say, they spent a third of the time getting distracted, a third of the time having breakdowns (Nishimura) or offering comfort (Takashi and Kitamoto) and a third of the time actually studying.

Slowly, Takashi relaxed, his scent easing with it, and conversation finally began to flow. He knew that he was the source of most of the awkwardness when they were together, but he had no idea to stop it. Kitamoto and Nishimura apparently didn’t think he was a lost cause though, given the way they continued to hang out with him, so Takashi bore with it.

“Boys, you’re welcome to stay for dinner if your parents are okay with it.” Touko-san dropped the offer on one of her pass-throughs to provide them with even more food.

Nishimura groaned. “Ohh, I’m already stuffed, but— more of Touko-san’s cooking.” He gave his lips an exaggerated lick. “Can I borrow your phone? I just need to call home real quick.”

“I think dad will let me stay, but let me call as well just to let him know,” Kitamoto said.

Touko-san ushered them both out to the hall, and Takashi was left alone to splay out on the ground and close his eyes. Being with Nishimura and Kitamoto was the most fun he’d had in… a very long time, but being constantly surrounded by their bright scents and energy was exhausting as it was entertaining.

Takashi inhaled fur when Nyanko settled down on his face.

“Your scent is funny again.” He said idly as Takashi scrambled to push him off.

“Sensei, we’ve gone over this already. My scent’s been off for as long as I can remember. You don’t need to keep pointing it out.”

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s even weirder now. It was normal for a while after you calmed down, but now it’s… hmm.” Nyanko licked a paw contemplatively. “Gone.”

“What?” Takashi automatically smudged his wrist to scent himself. As far as he could tell there wasn’t anything different.

“You kinda smell like an ayakashi now, actually,” Sensei continued blithely. “You’re one of those human omegas, right? Well, that part of your scent is gone. I can still pick up the— He made a face— “emotions, tastiness, whatever. But the omega bit isn’t there anymore.”

Takashi sniffed again, just to make sure. “But… I don’t smell any change?”

“You humans have weak noses, and your scent is so faint anyway I’m not surprised. Trust me, there’s something missing.”

That definitely sounded like something to be worried about, but even though Takashi absolutely believed Nyanko Sensei’s diagnosis, his own senses couldn’t find anything wrong, so he couldn’t bring himself to panic as much as he probably should’ve.

Takashi opened his mouth to ask Sensei another question, but Nishimura and Kitamoto chose that moment to return from the hall, and Takashi was forced to put the conversation aside.

\--~~--

“Sooo, now that we have like a half an hour to kill before dinner, how would you feel about giving us the house tour?” Nishimura batted his eyelashes at Takashi.

Takashi turned cold. A look around the house almost certainly meant a look at his room, and he liked Nishimura and Kitamoto a lot, but still… Then again, why was he being so protective? He’d spent most of his life without _any_ personal room; it was unreasonable to be so upset now. And besides, Kitamoto had allowed Takashi into his territory. It was only polite to return the favor.

Apparently sensing his unease, Nyanko Sensei crawled into Takashi’s lap and squinted up at him.

It would be fine, Takashi tried to reassure himself. He even trusted his friends to not touch any of his things.

“…Sure,” Takashi said after a long, heavy pause.

Nishimura looked a little uncertain now. “It’s okay if we don’t, you know.”

“No, it’s fine.” Takashi shakily scooped Nyanko up and climbed to his feet. “Let’s… start in Touko-san’s garden.”

\--

Takashi tried to drag out their time as long as he could, but since Nishimura and Kitamoto had already seen a good portion of the bottom floor, and he of course skipped the Fujiwara’s rooms, the second floor arrived all too quickly. His feet felt like lead, and Takashi forced himself along, briefly opening the doors to Shigeru-san’s office and pointing out the second-floor bathroom. And then there was only one room left.

“This is mine.” Takashi said quietly. The door scutting open echoed in his ears, and Nishimura and Kitamoto waited politely behind him until he stepped aside to let them look.

They poked their heads inside, and Takashi surveyed his room one last time. The blankets were shaken out and folded, and the futon was tucked in the closet. Everything was clean and scrubbed and sparkling. Nothing out of place. He waited for the verdict.

There was a long, long silence.

“This is your room?” Nishimura finally asked. There was some unidentifiable emotion in his voice, and his scent was rising, the normally effervescent sweetness now turbulent and murky. Takashi didn’t like it. 

Shrinking into himself, he could only nod.

“…Where’s your nest?” Kitamoto’s tone was an echo of Nishimura’s.

“And what’s with your scent?”

They turned to Takashi as one, and he dared to meet their eyes. Kitamoto’s gaze was dark and heavy, but Nishimura’s was burning. 

“This is unacceptable,” Nishimura declared. 

Takashi flinched, and Nyanko Sensei reached up to bump his head under Takashi’s chin. A strange, low growl was vibrating from his small body. Takashi wrapped his arms a little tighter around his bodyguard.

“Did the Fujiwaras do this?” Kitamoto asked quietly.

“…No?” Takashi still wasn’t sure what was wrong.

Kitamoto scowled as his scent darkened, and Takashi held his breath, waiting for him to activate his alpha scent, to _command_. 

But nothing came.

“Hey, Natsume,” Nishimura called, voice flat. “Do you have a bed or futon or anything in here?”

“Y-yeah.” 

He crept past a still-stormy Kitamoto with a furtive glance and hurried to the closet where his futon and blankets were stacked neatly in the back. Nyanko leapt from his arms and took up watch from his study table.

Nishimura had followed Takashi in, but his presence was the least of Takashi’s worries now. Dragging all his bedding from the closet, Takashi heaped it before Nishimura for inspection, feeling distinctly like a failure, even though he still wasn’t sure why his friends were so angry.

“This is everything?”

Takashi nodded.

“And you bring it out every night and put it back in the morning?”

Where was this going?

“How long have you been living here?”

“I think… four months now?” Takashi offered.

Heaving a huge sigh, Nishimura slumped down into a crouch before meeting Takashi’s eyes over the pile of nest blankets. “Did _anyone_ teach you about… omega things?

“Everyone had to take a dynamics studies class in eighth grade,” Takashi said, slightly offended.

“Well yeah, but studies are one thing. Actually living as your dynamic is whole different business.” Nishimura said emphatically. “I know I told you I was gonna be your omega parent, but… I really wasn’t expecting this.”

“I’m sorry,” Takashi tried.

“Nuh uh. None of this is your fault whatsoever. All the blame goes to your garbage foster families and the useless education system.”

“The point is,” Kitamoto spoke up from where he was leaning against the doorframe, “we’re realizing one of the reasons your scent is repressed. I might not be an omega, but just looking at your territory… this isn’t healthy for _any_ dynamic.”

Repressed scent? But more importantly…

“Normally I wouldn’t tell you what to do with your life, but Natsume, you _can’t_ keep living like this. I have no idea how you haven’t crashed already, to be honest.” Nishimura said solemnly. “Unfortunately, building a nest isn’t something I can do for you, so tomorrow; you’re officially coming to my house so you can see what your room _should_ look like.”

“What? But—you said your parents—“

“They can just deal with twenty minutes of me having a friend over.” Nishimura rolled his eyes. “I will drag you there if I have to. Acchan will back me up. Right?”

“Please don’t make me actually have to pull the force card,” Kitamoto said sincerely.

“Cool. Now that that’s decided, we’re going to go eat Touko-san’s delicious food, and then I am going to have _words_ with your family.” Nishimura’s eyes flashed dangerously.

He stormed from the room, and Kitamoto walked over to offer Takashi a hand up. “Nothing stops Sacchan on a warpath. It’s probably better just to let him run his course for now,” he said wryly. His scent had cooled back to something calm and enticing.

Hesitantly, Takashi took his hand, and together they followed Nishimura down into the warm, safe, familiar realm of Touko-san’s kitchen.

\--~~--

Dinner with all five of them (four, really) at the table was lively and full of thriving scents. Touko and Shigeru-san seemed enamored with Nishimura’s bright charm and Kitamoto’s subtle wit, and Takashi spent most of his time watching and listening with a small smile permanently stuck on his face. Even Nyanko Sensei contributed, with happy yowls for more shrimp. Takashi could almost forget the creeping dread for whatever his friends were planning to do.

Just before they left, Nishimura vanished with Shigeru-san for a few minutes, minutes that Takashi spent jittering with anxiety. But when they returned, they both seemed perfectly calm, their scents betraying nothing.

Nishimura and Kitamoto waved their final goodbyes at the door while Touko and Shigeru-san cleaned up the dinner table, and then Takashi was alone. Something small and cold sat heavy in the pit of his stomach, and his fingers itched with the need to be useful. Takashi stared apprehensively at his trembling hands. He hadn’t felt that in a long time now.

Hurrying back upstairs to his room, ostensibly because he was tired, but in reality because he was shamefully avoiding anything the Fujiwaras might have to say about Nishimura’s anger, Takashi laid out the blankets and futon still piled on the floor. Then he took a good look around his territory. Had he always left textbooks stacked in the corner of the table? Knickknacks haphazard and undusted on the shelves? His futon unwashed for a week?

He was getting too comfortable, too lax. The urge to clean rose up again, and Takashi aimed it at his room. The books were returned to their proper place on his closet shelf, the trinkets dusted and placed in their small box. He wiped surfaces and did his best to sweep the tatami floor. There wasn’t much he could do about his futon at this hour, but he would make sure to get up early before school and wash it then.

Whatever his friends had disapproved so strongly of, Takashi would make sure it never happened again.

\--~~--

When Takashi woke in the cold light of dawn the next morning, a headache was thrumming angrily behind his eyes and he already wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. But the laundry called.

“Whyyyy,” Nyanko Sensei groaned, forced awake by all of Takashi’s scuffling. “I swear you just cleaned that thing. Or just ask Touko to do it while you’re at school.”

“No!” Takashi hissed, horrified. “I can do this myself.”

And he did, creeping out of the house and splashing his way through the freezing process of washing and hanging his futon. By the end, he was soggy and even more miserable, but the incessant, itching urge from night before had eased.

He returned indoors to change and warm up before the Fujiwaras woke.

\--

At school, Takashi’s only comfort was that the morning’s headache had not been made worse by his early washing spree. It was hard enough to stay focused in class as it was.

Nishimura’s… request? Threat? To take Takashi to his house loomed over the whole day, and for the first time in weeks, Takashi completely passed their usual lunch spot and went to eat on his own. During the afternoon classes, he could feel Nishimura’s eyes burning holes into the back of his head, but Takashi remained safely isolated thanks to the barrier of Nishimura’s other eager friends.

After school was over though, it was impossible to escape any longer, and Nishimura and Kitamoto cornered him by the gates. Takashi kept his head low, all his excuses at the ready, but shockingly, they didn’t bring up how he’d skipped lunch at all.

Both his friends’ scents were clouded again, Kitamoto’s bitter and Nishimura’s sharp with acid instead of their usual warm sweetness. But there were so many emotions swirling within their auras that Takashi couldn’t pick out anything definite. All he knew was that they were unhappy.

Nishimura made a jerking motion toward him, as if reaching out to touch before instantly aborting the action. “Let’s go.”

Better to get it over with. At least Takashi trusted them not to do anything too terrible to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello yes can you see all my favorite tropes?
> 
> My [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) for occasional updates


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit late this week, sorry y'all :/  
> I had a whole bunch of essays to write and thus procrastinated on everything, so next week's chap might be a day or two late as well. Any more than that and I'll put a notice up on Tumblr
> 
> Now, on to The Suffering!

The Nishimura home was just as impeccably clean and well-kept as the Fujiwara home, but was shrouded in a layer of cold sterility that was so far removed from both the warmth of the Fujiwara’s house and Nishimura’s own sweet scent that Takashi had to do a double take when he walked in.

A tall man whom Takashi instantly knew was Nishimura’s brother appeared at the top of the stairs as he, Nishimura, and Kitamoto pulled off their shoes.

“Just keep it down. I’m studying for my entrance exam.”

“Yeah, yeah. You just go back to work,” Nishimura said, his voice and scent both threaded with bitterness.

Neither of Nishimura’s parents showed up on their way to his room, although Takashi could smell the chilled tang of metal and alpha musk. How on earth had the bright and bubbly Nishimura he knew come from these people?

Just outside his door, Nishimura stopped and turned to Takashi. “Just so you know, I’ve already included you in my pack, so this is blanket permission to explore whatever you like.”

Takashi blanked at the word “pack,” but Nishimura was already pushing the door open. It was his first entrance to the Fujiwara home all over again. Nishimura’s sugar-spun scent flooded from the room, blasting away his headache and eagerly urging Takashi inside. The pheromones were practically a physical weight, and he couldn’t help taking a long, slow breath to adjust.

Nudging Takashi gently from behind, Nishimura got him into the room, and Kitamoto pulled the door shut after them.

His friends said nothing as Takashi took a few hesitant steps forward and drank everything in. Nishimura’s space was messy and well lived-in. Old clothes were piled in a corner, barely any of his desk was visible below workbooks and stationery, and the bed was huge, heaped with pillows and comforters and even a few shirts, entirely unmade. Takashi restrained himself from tidying automatically.

Nishimura’s scent permeated everything in the room, and it was clear he hadn’t properly cleaned in at least a week. But then, this was Nishimura’s own home and family. What reason would there be for him to be cautious about leaving a mess?

Takashi looked back. Nishimura and Kitamoto were both watching him intently, scents full of rising apprehension. Nishimura flapped a hand to wave him onward. Right. Blanket permission.

With increasing curiosity, Takashi traced a finger across the edge of Nishimura’s bookshelf, noting the dozens of manga stored there. Impulsively, he brought his fingers up to his nose to sniff. Nishimura’s scent had even permeated the hard wood of his shelves. Takashi would never dare to let such a thing happen in his own room.

He made his way slowly along the wall. There were practically hundreds of pictures, trinkets, and bits of traditional omegean jewelry placed or hung wherever they would fit. Most of the photos were of Nishimura and Kitamoto together at increasing ages. There was only one of a much younger Nishimura and his older brother standing side by side and grinning widely under the sun. Inexplicable sadness stung at the corners of Takashi’s eyes when he saw it, and he moved on quickly.

Finally, he reached Nishimura’s nest, the most intriguing object in the room. Takashi had only been in one other omega’s room, years and years ago. It had been so overwhelming that he’d deliberately avoided any of the few opportunities he’d had to see one since then. But the point was, that omega’s nest hadn’t been anywhere near as big as Nishimura’s.

Takashi didn’t dare to actually get in, but he picked delicately at one of the outer blankets, trying to puzzle out the need for such a massive bedding concoction. Yet, despite the obvious illogicality of it, Takashi suddenly burned with the urge to crawl inside, curl up, and sleep. Something wasn’t quite right about doing it here, but maybe somewhere else, were the scent was lighter, more his own…

What was he thinking? Takashi yanked his hand away and stumbled back a step.

“Natsume?” 

As if summoned by his wildly inappropriate thoughts, Nishimura appeared at Takashi’s shoulder, looking concerned.

“I’m sorry,” Takashi gasped, even though there was no way Nishimura could possibly know what he’d been ready to do.

“Sorry? I told you that you could touch, and I meant it. Nothing to be sorry about.” Nishimura sounded almost alarmed.

“No, I— never mind.” Takashi stopped himself. “Was this… all you wanted to show me?”

Nishimura stared at him. “Well, yeah, but… don’t you feel _anything_?

Takashi returned his stare helplessly.

Heaving a sigh, Nishimura slumped down at his desk. “Sorry Natsume. I’m failing you. Disown me as your omega parent right away.”

Takashi twisted his fingers together, utterly lost. “I don’t understand what’s wrong!” he burst out. “Please, just tell me what I need to fix, and I’ll do it. You know better than me.”

Nishimura’s face twisted, emotions flickering across it faster than Takashi could catch, and his scent rippled first with pain, then disgust, then surged straight into rage. Takashi’d had all those pheromones directed at him before, but never so intensely from another omega. He waited silently for Nishimura’s judgement.

Kitamoto stepped firmly between them, the even, warm coffee of his scent deliberately strong.

“Satoru’s not mad at you, Natsume.”

Takashi forced himself to look up and meet Kitamoto’s eyes. Kitamoto studied him for a moment, then crouched down so _he_ was looking up instead. Takashi’s shock was mowed over by Kitamoto’s next words.

“Ironically, he’s mad at the people who’ve made you think that _we_ would be mad at _you_ over something like this.”

“Then…” Takashi swallowed hard. “Why did you bring me here? What do I need to fix in my room?”

“Your room…” Kitamoto sighed. “Okay, so it is pretty bad, but—listen. You can smell how Sacchan’s scent is all over his territory? That’s how your room should be as well. Only, y’know, with your own scent.”

Takashi processed that for a moment. “Your place wasn’t like this though…”

Kitamoto made a face. “Well—”

“That’s because Acchan is special,” Nishimura piped up, “his territory doesn’t have to be the same as ours.”

“Basically, I was born with a scent gland disorder that nobody noticed until after I’d fully presented. It just means that my scent isn’t really tied my own wellbeing like everyone else, almost nobody likes how I smell, and I’ll never have alpha pheromones to compel other dynamics. But frankly, I’m okay with that.” Kitamoto explained dryly. “Only my family and Sacchan here can stand to be around me all the time.”

Takashi blinked. “Really? But your scent is so nice.” He slapped a hand over his traitorous mouth the moment the words escaped.

Kitamoto’s eyes widened in surprise, and his scent seemed pleased. “Huh. Add another one to the list then.”

“The point is, Kitamoto’s territory is not a good metric, and unless you have unusual circumstances too, your room should be like mine.” Nishimura frowned. “I know I mentioned this yesterday, but I honestly have no idea how you’re not sick with Repression Syndrome or something. Maybe it’s because you haven’t presented yet?”

Repression Syndrome… Takashi had heard of it before, but always in the context of abandoned or chronically ill omegas and alphas. He doubted it was possible for him to have it.

“The other important thing is your nest, Natsume. Technically, you can survive on the amount of nest materials you’re using now, but it really isn’t healthy. Shigeru-san mentioned you weren’t using anything but your futon when you first started living with them, so at least you’re working on it. I may have… a few too many things,” Nishimura admitted, “but the main thing is, I’m comfortable. Can you sleep easily in your nest?”

“I… don’t know.” Takashi’s head was spinning with all the new information, and the relief that his friends weren’t actually angry with him.

“And…” Kitamoto said slowly, “we definitely handled this whole thing badly, but you looked ready for Sacchan to… I dunno, hit you or something. It’s a bit…” He hesitated. “Well, that’s probably something you need more than a couple of high schoolers to help with.”

“But… you didn’t hit me. And if I did what you wanted me to do, you wouldn’t be angry anymore, right? I trust you not to do anything bad,” Takashi said uncertainly.

Kitamoto smiled sadly at him and didn’t answer.

“I don’t think we can solve anything right now, and it’s getting late.” Nishimura decided. “Let’s just get you home, Natsume. I’ve got cram school tomorrow, but we can return to this on Sunday.”

Takashi couldn’t do anything but agree.

\--~~--

When Takashi returned home and stumbled through the door, Nyanko Sensei took one sniff at him and leapt up into his arms, refusing to leave.

“Sensei? I’m okay.”

“Obviously.”

He still didn’t jump down.

Touko and Shigeru-san also seemed to know something was up, because they blessedly kept their conversation limited. Slowly, Takashi’s headache was creeping back from the reprieve it had granted him at Nishimura’s house, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

After Takashi flinched away when Touko-san tried to hug him post-dinner chores, she exchanged a look with Shigeru-san, and with worry stirring in their scents, they left him alone for the night.

Back upstairs, Takashi brought out his futon. It did look small when compared to the grandeur of Nishimura’s nest. He curled up underneath the blankets and startled when Nyanko Sensei wriggled under his arm to settle at his side.

“What happened?” Nyanko asked bluntly.

Takashi had no idea where to even start. “…Nishimura showed me his room.”

“And?”

“It smelled like him.”

“Hm.”

There was a short pause.

“Your scent is getting even fainter, you know,” Nyanko said, almost conversationally.

“Really?” Sleep was already dragging Takashi under, and his head was throbbing. “More than yesterday?”

“Uh huh. Even I had trouble finding it today.”

“Mm…” Takashi yawned. “Worried?”

Nyanko Sensei snorted. “Heck no. But you might be losing flavor as a snack and I can’t have that. I’m taking you to Hinoe tomorrow.”

“Oh… no…”

The last thing Takashi felt before the darkness pulled him away was Sensei’s strangely dry nose on his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) if you want to check up on me :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to the angst party, dumpster fam! Sorry about the 1 week hiatus, but I got my big research paper done, so hopefully we'll be interruption-free until school starts up again.

They stealthily left for Yatsuhara early the next morning, but not before Takashi’s conscience guilted him into leaving the Fujiwaras a note. They deserved that, at least.

It had been a while since Nynako Sensei had last ferried Takashi anywhere, and his bodyguard’s inhuman warmth and soft fur was doing good things for Takashi’s persistent headache.

Hinoe was already waiting in the clearing when they landed.

“Natsume darling! It’s been ages since I saw you last,” She said gleefully, wrapping him in a stranglehold of a hug as Takashi suffocated in the folds her heavy kimono.

“Hi, Hinoe.”

“But—hold on a moment. What happened to your scent? Reiko’s scent!?”

Thankfully, Nyanko answered for him. “We don’t know. It’s been fading over the past couple days, so we’re here for you to fix it.”

Hinoe’s face scrunched up. “Unless the cause is an ayakashi, why do you expect me to cure a _human_?"

“Just take a look.” Nyanko said irritably.

After a slow blink, a grin prowled over Hinoe’s face. “Ahh, the great Madara is worried, isn’t he?”

“Shut up.” Nyanko tilted his giant nose into the air, but the damage was done.

“Well, come on then, dear Natsume!”

Takashi shuddered, but followed. Hinoe was terrifying when she was excited.

After a minute or so of walking, Hinoe settled Takashi beside a rocky niche, where she proceeded to rummage through pile of baskets and jars.

“Most ayakashi’s scents only fade when they’re about to die, you know,” Hinoe said as she poked and prodded away at Takashi’s face. “But I’ll assume you’re not dying and try something else instead.”

While she muttered to herself, Takashi deliberately inhaled the clear forest air. The youkai of Yatsuhara were rowdy, but generally friendly— and best of all, none of them carried a true scent. It was a lot easier to relax out in a neutral atmosphere.

“Hmm.” Hinoe lifted Takashi’s wrist and poked the gland there. “Where else do you humans store your scent?”

Even though Takashi knew Hinoe had absolutely no interest in him as an omega, he was still hesitant to pulls aside his collar. Technically, there were scent glands on his inner thighs too, but he wasn’t even considering that option.

He winced and jumped when Hinoe sharply pinched his neck gland, then brought her fingers up to her nose, rubbing them together slowly. She frowned. “You know, it is very odd. I’m not sure what’s normal for a human, but your vitality is steady. For some reason though, your scent is just— gone.”

“So there’s nothing you can do?” Nyanko questioned.

“Not right now. Let me ask around to other ayakashi. My focus is more on poisons and curses, after all, not healing. I’ll send a messenger if I find anything.”

“Fine,” Nyanko agreed. “I’ll look around too.”

“My goodness, I never see you this invested in research outside of sake hunts. Could the great Madara-sama finally be going soft?”

Nyanko slammed a massive paw down on the ground where she’d been standing, but Hinoe was already high in a tree, laughing mockingly.

They did this every. Single. Time.

“Thank you, Hinoe!” Takashi called. He grabbed Nyanko’s leg. “Please, let’s just go.”

Nyanko Sensei growled one last time, then snapped Takashi up in his mouth and swung him onto his back. Takashi’s head did _not_ thank him for that.

\--~~--

Takashi’s return home was greeted by a flustered Touko-san running out to meet him when he pulled the front door open.

“Takashi-kun! You had me worried.”

“I’m sorry,” Takashi mumbled. It was easy to slip into old habits: head down, shoulders bent, hands together. As small as possible.

“I’d glad you left us a note, but… well, I guess I’ll always fret when you’re out and we aren’t awake to help you if you need it.”

Touko-san bent to try and meet Takashi’s eyes. What was he supposed to say? Not that he’d gone to meet a youkai over his vanishing scent and hoped to be back before she could notice his disappearance.

“I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t happen again.

“Well… what matters is that you’re safe,” Touko-san said eventually. “Are you hungry? Breakfast is still on the table.”

\--

Afternoons tended to be quiet on Saturdays. With Shigeru-san finishing his half-day at work and Touko-san out for shopping, Takashi had the house to himself. Usually he liked to spend that time stealthily cleaning anything Touko-san hadn’t in an effort to feel useful, but today his headache was preventing him from doing anything but lie on the floor with a pillow under his head and a cool towel over his face. Nyanko Sensei puttered idly around Takashi’s legs. Why he was still there, Takashi had no idea.

Still, it was nice not to be alone.

Takashi made sure he was up and about by the time Touko-san returned home so as not to worry her any further. He silently helped her prepare lunch, and Shigeru-san arrived not long after they’d finished.

The entire time they were eating, Touko and Shigeru-san alternately gave Takashi short, intent looks, as if they were about to say something, only to stop at the last second. But in the end, lunch passed without Takashi speaking a word, and he returned to the relative safety of his bedroom. Neither of them tried to touch him on the way out.

Returning to his darkened room and cool towel, Takashi laid down again and fought the whimpers that threated to escape past his gritted teeth. A soft knock on the door startled him, but he didn’t dare to move. Shigeru-san’s dark, polished-wood scent met his nose when the door scudded open just a crack.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Takashi-kun?”

Takashi tried to puzzle out what Shigeru-san could possibly want. It was unusual for him to approach like this. He didn’t answer.

A shuffling sound. “Well, if you need anything… more blankets maybe? Or tea? Don’t hesitate to ask us, as always. I want you to make yourself comfortable.”

The speech was oddly hesitant for someone as confident as Shigeru-san. Distantly, Takashi wondered if this was a result of whatever Nishimura had said to Shigeru-san the day before.

The visit to Nishimura’s room had thrown Takashi all out of whack. Apprehension over whatever Nishimura and Kitamoto would corner him about on Sunday was weighing on his shoulders. Maybe that was causing his headache. Or maybe a curse. _I should ask Nyanko Sensei about that._

\--~~--

Since they hadn’t made any concrete plans on Friday, Takashi almost expected his friends to simply show up on his doorstep and demand entry. But the morning remained quiet and un-invaded. 

Takashi’s headache had eased a little, so he took the opportunity to study for a few hours. Foster families always seemed to like him more when he kept his grades up, so Takashi did his best even though it was often impossible while staying inconspicuous in class and dealing with youkai appearances. Study sessions with Nishimura and Kitamoto had helped him stay on top of things for a while, but he’d been slacking recently.

Shortly before lunch, Nyanko Sensei returned from whatever search for Takashi’s cure he’d been on, so they went downstairs together.

“Oh, Takashi-kun! Just in time,” Touko-san called cheerfully when Takashi stepped into the kitchen. “Would you please set the table? And get Shigeru out of his office if you feel up to it?”

“Okay.”

Takashi had to walk next to her to take plates from the cabinet. When she reached out and brushed a single, gentle thumb over his wrist gland, Takashi forced himself to remain still. Even that tiny touch was prickling on his skin.

Touko-san didn’t seem to notice his frozen moment, and Takashi breathed a sigh of relief. She’d wanted to scent him for a while now, he knew. He could at least give her this.

He hadn’t realized Sensei had disappeared from his side until the cat trotted back into the room with Shigeru-san at his heels.

“Oh. Thanks, Sensei.”

“Meow.”

Shigeru-san was particularly excited about a new book he’d been reading, enough that it even bubbled up into his scent. The headache was still being kind, so Takashi ventured a few polite questions, safe things he knew Shigeru-san wouldn’t mind answering. He tried to ignore the way the Fujiwara’s mild spring scents thrummed with happiness every time he spoke.

The dreaded phone call came just after lunch, and Shigeru-san was the one to go and pick it up.

Takashi waited tensely, listening to the indistinct conversation in the hall until Shigeru-san appeared in the door and beckoned.

“It’s for you, Takashi-kun. From your friend Kitamoto-kun.”

Takashi nodded his shaky thanks before brushing past and taking the phone.

“…Hello?”

“Hey Natsume. Sorry we didn’t call earlier. Sacchan got in trouble with his parents again, so we had to delay. How are you?”

“I… that’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Great. Want to meet down by the convenience store? The crepe truck is there today.”

The thought of simply… _not going_ flitted across Takashi’s mind, but he banished it immediately. They were expecting him.

“Yeah. I’ll come.”

“Awesome! We’ll order ahead so you don’t have to wait. What kind of crepe do you want?”

Takashi tried to picture the menu in his head, but everything was blank, and Kitamoto was waiting. “Um… I don’t know. Whatever you like.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Kitamoto?”

“Yeah. How about this: chocolate or fruit?”

The day was hot, and lunch had been salty. “Fruit?”

“Sure thing.” Kitamoto sounded oddly pleased. “We’ll see you there.”

“Yeah. See you there.”

The phone clicked, and Takashi pulled the receiver away from his ear and stared at it as if it could explain to him the unfathomable mysteries that were his own friends.

\--~~--

Takashi tucked some money into his bag to pay Kitamoto back and probably buy something for Sensei, who was currently settled on his head as the world’s hottest, squishiest, most uncomfortable hat. It didn’t seem to be making his background headache any worse though, so Takashi allowed it.

When he found them, Nishimura and Kitamoto were sprawled under a tree a short distance from the food truck, and they waved him over.

“Here you go, Natsume!” Nishimura eagerly shoved a fruit crepe at his chest. “Aaand, guess what? The guy made a mistake on my order, so he let us have the extra for free. So we have something for your fat cat too!”

Nishimura’s scent was as sweet as the crepe in Takashi’s hand, and he automatically leaned in a bit to absorb its comfort.

Nobody moved to speak right away, all too busy savoring their snack. But the peaceful quiet had to come to an end sometime.

“So, Natsume. Acchan and I were talking the other day, and first off…” Nishimura’s face shifted to something more serious. “I want to apologize for dragging you to come see my room and getting angry like that in front of you. I understand where you’re coming from a bit better now, and I was being… way too forceful. It won’t happen again, promise.”

“You didn’t drag me,” Takashi rushed to correct him, “and you didn’t do anything to me, so it’s all okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

Both Nishimura and Kitamoto’s scents were subdued, and they were watching him with indiscernible looks on their faces. They did that a lot now.

“I hope you’ll accept it anyway.”

Takashi nodded mutely.

“Thanks,” Nishimura said with a crooked smile. “’Kay, second of all, and this is real important. We’re not going to make you change your nest. I did some research last night, and… well, the way your room is now… probably won’t keep you healthy in the long run, _but_ it’s fine if you need to adjust slowly, if old habits are hard to break. Apparently, it’s pretty common for omegas from—from bad circumstances to need a while to get comfortable. So yeah. From here on out, we won’t bring up your nest anymore unless you want to talk about it.”

Nishimura paused. “No, wait, I lied.”

He twisted around to pull his backpack into his lap, dragging out a blanket and what appeared to be a shirt.

“This is probably kinda presumptuous, but I just thought… anyway, if you’d like, this is a shirt from me and a blanket from Acchan if you want to add something to your nest.”

Takashi stared for a long time before lifting the objects from Nishimura’s hands. He couldn’t help bringing both up to his nose to sniff at the mixed sweet-coffee scents. Slowly, he tucked the fabric into his own bag. Giving scented objects to others was… pack behavior. Nishimura had mentioned Takashi being included in his pack that day, but this…

“Thank you,” Takashi managed.

Kitamoto made an approving noise while Nishimura beamed.

“Now, if you ever need help with anything, just ask. Our offer’s always open.”

“Or ask the Fujiwaras,” Kitamoto added. “They really care for you, you know.”

From Takashi’s lap, Nyanko meowed and eyed the forgotten half of his crepe hungrily. Takashi couldn’t help but smile when Nishimura lunged for his bodyguard, shrieking about “ungrateful cats stealing Natsume’s food!”

They’d found something wrong with Takashi, but were just going to… leave it? He was pretty sure that between the Fujiwaras and Nishimura and Kitamoto, he’d never stayed with anyone quite so unpredictable in his entire life. But maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.

\--~~--

In the end, Takashi managed to finish his crepe while Nishimura held a whining Nyanko Sensei back. Kitamoto flat out refused repayment, and though it grated on Takashi to be treated twice in a row (they usually took turns paying when they were out for a study session), he finally conceded defeat and went home.

Takashi’s improved mood was apparently obvious enough that when Touko-san saw him on his way in, the crisp relief of her scent flooded the room. Guilt pricked at his heart when he saw how much she’d worried, but there wasn’t much he could do now.

Nyanko was still sullen and silent over the crepe business, so Takashi gave up and just dropped him on his nap pillow. Final exams would be announced soon, and Takashi wanted to prepare early.

Not three minutes into his studies, a youkai was knocking on the window and asking for their name back. Takashi resigned himself to an evening of exhaustion.

\--~~--

Over the next few days, Takashi’s life returned to a slightly-altered state of normalcy. The blanket and shirt found a home carefully folded in the closet atop his futon. Every night he brought them out to tuck them into his nest, and every night they ended up back in the closet. It was just a little too strange. Takashi couldn’t bring himself to do it. True to their word, Nishimura and Kitamoto steered clear not just of Takashi’s nesting habits, but of omega behavior in general. He could almost forget that anything had happened at all.

And sure enough, finals preparation began on Thursday, and Nishimura immediately began to tear his hair out over it. Kitamoto assured Takashi that this happened pretty much every year, but some help keeping their friend sane would be appreciated.

Every other day, Nyanko took Takashi out to the forest to check in with the increasingly large group of youkai who were searching for a cure for Takashi’s scent problem. They came up empty every time, and between the Chuukyuu, Benio, Kappa, and a handful of others, most of the meetings ended in a drunken ruckus. Still, Takashi found it was relaxing to just sit and watch their antics without fear of attack, knowing their concern for him was sincere.

The only trouble was, they were no closer to figuring out what was wrong, and Takashi’s scent was getting fainter by the day. It had gotten to the point that Takashi had finally noticed it for himself. It was hard to tell if the Fujiwaras could sense it, but Takashi could barely stand to let them touch him anymore, so he doubted they’d gotten close enough.

The throbbing headaches that had plagued him for a short while had at last faded into a constant, lingering pain. Nyanko Sensei had confirmed that it wasn’t a curse, but Takashi still wondered at the cause. It was annoying, but nothing he couldn’t handle. 

On Monday, Kitamoto arrived at their rooftop lunch spot thrumming with unusual excitement. A new transfer student was in his class, strangely close to the end of the school year.

“He’s a bit like you, Natsume.” Kitamoto said thoughtfully. “Not, like, appearance—and he’s an alpha—but you guys have the same sort of aura. Like you’re always just a little distant and distracted when there isn’t someone right in front of you.”

Takashi winced and hoped his face was neutral. This was about as close as his friends ever got to mentioning the strange (youkai) happenings that inevitably popped up wherever Takashi went. He dreaded the day he would no longer be able cover things up with just a quick smile and a small lie.

“Well, maybe you should pick him up as a friend. Add him to the collection,” Nishimura quipped.

“Sure,” Kitamoto laughed, “I’ll do my best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta break up the angst with a little bit of comfort, amiright?
> 
> My [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) where you can see all my hiatus excuses


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up, I bought Subnautica a couple days ago and have been doing pretty much nothing but play that so anyway expect future delays lol

The day after Kitamoto’s transfer student announcement, Takashi sat in class impatiently waiting for the final bell to ring. He scratched his arm again. It was still itching from where he’d accidentally bumped shoulders with Nishimura on the way back from lunch. After years of practice, dodging the touches of others was second nature, but with his friends he’d been careless and relaxed for just a moment. Now he was paying the price.

It was still strange though. For a few short weeks, Takashi had thought he was okay with the touches of at least the Fujiwaras. But now, even their gentle hands burned on his skin. Had fitting in with them been too much to hope for after all?

Class soon let out, and Takashi stepped into the hall to wait for Nishimura. Out the window, he caught sight of the Chuukyuus tumbling about on the grass. Shaking his head a little, he couldn’t help a smile. The youkai of Yatsuhara had taken up a sort-of watch at Hinoe’s insistence, apparently to make sure Takashi stayed alive until a cure could be found. It was almost always the Chuukyuus, but they seemed happy enough to do it.

“Um… hello. Are you Natsume-san?”

Takashi jumped at the low voice, and spun to face his visitor. It was another boy, just a bit taller than him, with black hair and piercing dark eyes. Takashi tried to scent him, but all he got was a faint brush of amber and alpha musk. His usually pinpoint-sharp senses had been getting weaker recently. Still, that one sniff told all he needed to know. He took a tiny step back.

“Yes. Who are you?” Takashi asked warily.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” the other boy sounded sheepish. “I’m Tanuma Kaname.”

Takashi gave a jerky nod. Tanuma was far too close, setting off some tingling unease, and Takashi couldn’t bring himself to offer a polite greeting like he normally would.

“This is kinda weird, I guess. I heard some of the other kids in my class talking, and they mentioned a few rumors about you.”

Takashi flinched. Tanuma noticed.

“Yeah, it sounds really bad now that I’m actually here.” He scratched the back of his head. “Just, some of the things I heard about you sounded familiar, so I thought…”

Tanuma looked out the window and Takashi followed his gaze. The Chuukyuus were now waving wildly up at him, with cheers that he couldn’t hear.

“Can you see them?” Takashi asked quietly.

Tanuma gave him a surprised glance. “I can see something. But it’s mostly just a shadow to me. Are they…” he squinted. “Waving?”

Takashi was in freefall—could Tanuma-san really see them?—and he couldn’t help a startled laugh. “Yeah.”

“Huh.” 

A few more seconds passed, both of them watching, in one form or another, the strange pair on the lawn. Then Tanuma finally drew back and gave Takashi an odd half-smile.

“I guess I won’t bother you any longer. Thanks for hearing me out. Maybe I’ll see you around, Natsume.”

Still frozen, Takashi watched him go. After a moment, Nishimura bounded out of the classroom, freed from his circle of conversation at last.

“Natsume! Ready to go?”

“…Yeah.”

\--~~--

One of Takashi’s assigned chores that evening was cleaning and setting the table for dinner, so he and Touko-san bustled around each other, Takashi taking careful pains never to let them touch.

His task was far easier than Touko-san’s, so when he inevitably finished before her, Takashi stood momentarily purposeless in the middle of the kitchen. Apparently, it was all the invitation Touko-san needed.

“Takashi-kun?”

He turned. Touko-san was watching him with her hands twisted in her apron and her scent swirling oddly, although Takashi could no longer pick out exactly what she was feeling.

“May I… scent you?”

He’d been standing still before, but now he was a statue. She’d finally said something. Takashi hadn’t let her or Shigeru-san scent him in nearly a week, and they’d noticed. He knew it was something Touko-san wanted. But the thought of her nose or fingers against his wrist was unbearable. Miserably, Takashi shook his head.

Touko-san visibly drooped, and fierce guilt and unease washed over Takashi. She’d _said _. She’d said Takashi could always turn down touch, and he had to believe her, but the weight of her disappointment dragged at him.__

__The phone chose that moment to ring, and with a final glance, Touko-san retreated to the hall to answer it. Freed from her presence, Takashi collapsed into a chair and squeezed his shaking hands together. Even months into his wonderful new life with the Fujiwaras, months of plenty of food and friends and a room of his own, he still couldn’t settle down enough to just let Touko-san scent him._ _

__

__Shigeru-san worked late that evening, so Takashi and Touko-san ate in heavy silence. It was one of the worst nights since his arrival._ _

__

__\--~~--_ _

__

__A mock test was scheduled for the middle of the week, so Takashi got up a little earlier than normal to cram some last-minute preparation in. He was out the door just as Touko-san emerged from her bedroom. He couldn’t bear another meal of quiet disappointment._ _

__Apparently, he looked so bad that Nyanko Sensei deemed it necessary to get up early with him and follow him to school. Neither of them spoke, but Sensei continually sent Takashi long, calculating looks that he didn’t like at all._ _

__The first words out of Nishimura’s mouth when he ran into Takashi just outside of the entrance were “Whoa, Natsume, did you sleep at all?” Which only confirmed the awful shape he was in._ _

__As they walked to their first class, unease slowly began to prickle its way over Takashi’s skin and down his spine. It took him several minutes to realize what was wrong. Nishimura’s familiar sweet scent was gone._ _

__A spike of panic shot through him, and without thinking, Takashi grabbed Nishimura’s shoulder and leaned in close to try and scent his friend._ _

__“Whoa?” Nishimura startled back with raised eyebrows._ _

__That effectively broke Takashi from his trance, and he stumbled away with a horrified noise. What was he doing?_ _

__He fled the rest of the way to the classroom, ignoring Nishimura’s call from behind._ _

__\--_ _

__Takashi forced his fear into the little box in the back of his mind where he kept everything he couldn’t allow himself to think about when the mock test was dropped on his desk._ _

__Even though he hadn’t returned any names the previous night, it was still a struggle to stay awake and focused. Anxiety over his grades rose to stew with all his other worries. At the very least, he had to keep up his academics and stay out of trouble at school for the Fujiwaras._ _

__The next few periods were less important, and Takashi couldn’t stop himself from intermittently sleeping through them. He could feel Nishimura’s worried stare on his back whenever he was awake._ _

__When lunch break arrived, Nishimura immediately cornered Takashi and dragged him up to the roof before he could escape or protest. Because he’d left home so early, he didn’t have a lunch with him, but Nishimura didn’t know that. Takashi resigned himself to an awkward half an hour of just watching and listening._ _

__But when they reached the top of the stairs and Nishimura shoved the door open, it was Kitamoto and the alpha from the day before, Tanuma, who were waiting for them._ _

__Takashi ground to a halt, even as Nishimura bounded forward._ _

__“Ooh, is this the transfer you were talking about?”_ _

__“Yeah, this is Tanuma,” Kitamoto introduced cheerfully._ _

__“Tanuma Kaname. Nice to meet you,” Tanuma greeted. “I take it you’re Nishimura?”_ _

__“Yup! And this is Natsume— what are you still doing over there?” Nishimura turned to find Takashi, giving him a worried look._ _

__Reluctantly, Takashi came forward. “Hi, Tanuma-san.”_ _

__Tanuma scrunched his face up. “No need for the -san.”_ _

__Nishimura glanced between them. “You guys know each other already?”_ _

__“Kind of,” Tanuma shrugged, “we briefly met yesterday.”_ _

__“Well, even better then,” Kitamoto said. “Natsume, you okay if he hangs with us for lunch?”_ _

__“…Sure.”_ _

__Kitamoto studied his face for a moment, but apparently concluded that Takashi was serious. They all settled down to eat. Almost all._ _

__“So, Tanuma, where are you from?” Nishimura prompted._ _

__“My dad and I moved up from Kumamoto. It was a rush decision, which is why I’m here so close to final exams.” He shook his head ruefully. “I’m not looking forward to that.”_ _

__“Just you and your dad then?”_ _

__“Yeah. Mom passed a while ago, so we’ve been moving from temple to temple intermittently. My dad’s a priest and temple caretaker by the way.”_ _

__Takashi watched Tanuma slowly inhale, scenting the air— Nishimura?— as Nishimura’s face softened. “But you’re okay now?”_ _

__“As good as I can be, I think,” Tanuma said, “I was pretty young, so my dad took it a lot harder.”_ _

__Nishimura and Kitamoto hummed in sympathetic unison. A moment passed._ _

__“Hey, Natsume, why aren’t you eating?” Nishimura asked suspiciously._ _

__Takashi looked at the floor. “I didn’t bring anything today.”_ _

__“What? But Touko-san always makes you such amazing bentos.”_ _

__“I… left the house early today. She didn’t have time.”_ _

__Nishimura’s eyes narrowed. “…I see. In that case, you’ll just have to eat some of mine.”_ _

__“What— no, Nishimura, you don’t have to do that—”_ _

__“If you think I’m letting you go hungry, we need to hang out more often because you obviously don’t know me well enough. Here,” Nishimura said, holding out a piece of chicken. It was a rare day where he’d brought a proper bento, it seemed. But that only made Takashi’s gut churn more with the thought of taking his carefully prepared food._ _

__“But— Nishimura, I know you made that yourself…”_ _

__“So? That just means I can do whatever I want with it, right? I’m feeding you.”_ _

__Nishimura was too stubborn for his own good. Takashi stole another look at the small portions in his friend’s bento and firmly shook his head._ _

__“No. You need to eat.”_ _

__Nishimura threw his hands in the air. “And so do you!”_ _

__“How about you take some of mine? I brought too much today,” Tanuma spoke up._ _

__“ _Thank_ you Tanuma. Natsume, he’s got a literal mountain of rice, you can’t argue now, please eat _something_._ _

__Scooping out a little ball of rice, Tanuma offered it out to Takashi. He hesitated._ _

__“Eat it, eat it,” Nishimura chanted, slapping his hands on his thighs in time with the words._ _

__Shoving past all his screaming instincts, Takashi blindly leaned forward and took the bite directly from Tanuma’s chopsticks._ _

__The air froze. It took a long moment of staring at everyone’s wide eyes, understanding what those expressions meant without their scents attached, for Takashi to realize what he’d just done. Nishimura whistled._ _

__Horrified, Takashi shot back, clapping his hands over his mouth in a useless attempt to hide his shame. He’d just made Tanuma feed him, had taken food directly from an alpha. As if they were… family, or _mates_. _ _

__The urge to flee from an alpha’s certain wrath was strong, and it was only Nishimura’s steady, unbothered presence at his side that kept Takashi from leaving altogether._ _

__“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tanuma, I—”_ _

__“Whoa, it’s fine.” Tanuma’s brow was furrowed, and his hand was frozen mid-air, stretched halfway out to Takashi. “No harm done.”_ _

__What he would’ve given to be able to smell his friends and Tanuma at that moment, to know what they were feeling and how he should react in turn._ _

__“I’m sorry,” Takashi said one last time, hunching his shoulders and shoving his hands into his lap. The smaller the better._ _

__Takashi accepted a few pieces of chicken from Nishimura, a few more bites of rice from Tanuma, and a chunk of bread from Kitamoto without resistance. And for the rest of the period, he couldn’t bring himself to speak another word._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Tanuma but Natsume is literally scared of him rn, so his introduction is underwhelming. But fear not, dumpster fam. There are still mountains of trope left to go...
> 
> My [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) if you want to see when I've been consumed by Subnautica


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsume's lifestyle catches up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the chapter you've all been waiting for.
> 
> cw: minor bad medical practice and PAIN

After sneaking out of school from under Nishimura’s nose, Takashi met Nyanko Sensei a minute or so past the gates. Together, they walked into the forest, just far enough to avoid getting caught when Nyanko Sensei took off.

“I can’t smell you at all now,” Nyanko said, his bell jingling with mocking cheerfulness. “It’s unnerving.”

“I know,” Takashi sighed. “Maybe… maybe I’m just a Blank. It would probably be for the best.”

He’d never heard of anyone who’d _become_ a Blank after being born with a scent, but then, when had Takashi ever been normal?

Sensei scowled. “You smell dead. I don’t like it.”

“Well, maybe Hinoe will have something this time.”

“Hmm.”

\--

A dozen or so youkai were milling about when Takashi and Nyanko Sensei landed in the clearing, and Hinoe rushed forward to meet them.

“Darling Natsume! Any changes since last time?” She asked brightly, already beginning her usual examination.

The fragile, desperate box of worries Takashi had constructed that morning cracked at last. The way his skin burned at gentle touch. Nishimura’s missing scent. And everyone’s, now that he thought about it.

“…Yes, actually,” Takashi said slowly, fearfully. “I couldn’t smell anyone at school today.”

Hinoe arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Can you smell any of us?” 

She gestured at the youkai now collected in a loose circle around them.

Youkai scents were subtle enough that Takashi never really noticed them unless he concentrated, but…. Closing his eyes, he inhaled carefully, afraid of the answer. “No.”

“Then it’s likely your entire… what do humans have? Your entire scent system has been shut off. I’ve noticed that in humans, everything is linked—the glands, sensory organs, all of it—and I’ve been waiting for this to happen.” She shook her head slowly. “Whatever’s wrong, it’s out of my area of expertise, and I’ve even consulted every healer ayakashi I know.”

“Then… what am I supposed to do?” Takashi asked quietly.

Hinoe squinted at him. “I never thought I would say this, but since I can’t lose darling Reiko’s grandchild—you should visit a human doctor.”

Takashi flinched. “I… can’t do that.”

“Why not?” The question came from Hinoe and Nyanko simultaneously.

Takashi thought back to the hours and days he’d spent in cold hospital rooms where the air smelled of fear and death—though maybe that would no longer be a problem?—back to all the doctors who’d poked and prodded and pronounced him “sensitive” and “unstable.” Back to a thin-lipped psychologist when he was twelve and a bottle of innocuous white pills that made his head spin but never stopped him from seeing youkai when he was fourteen. And finally, to all the tight, twisted faces when Takashi inevitably needed yet another expensive treatment.

“No. And the Fujiwaras… I won’t do that to them.”

Sensei snorted. “What, ask for help?”

“Burden them,” Takashi said firmly.

With a huff, Nyanko turned away, and silence reigned in the clearing.

“Well… I suppose I can’t make you go,” Hinoe frowned, “but if you die, I’m personally making sure you come back as an ayakashi so I can kill you.”

Takashi laughed, but it sounded hollow even to him. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping me, everyone.”

“There’s no point in coming for checkups, really. Unless something else happens, or I stumble on a cure.” Hinoe sighed and waved him on. “But feel free to call on me if you ever have another problem. I’m always happy to have you in my debt!”

After Takashi extricated himself from the sobbing Chuukyuus and waved his goodbyes to the rest, he scrambled onto Nyanko Sensei’s back.

“I’m tired, Sensei.”

A grumble was all he got in reply before they took to the air.

\--~~-- 

Takashi woke up screaming.

Every inch of his body was in agony. His head throbbed, his skin was on fire, his glands were stuck with knives, even the pressure spot on the back of his neck was swollen and so sensitive that the soft fabric of the pillow burned.

Though the haze of blinding pain, Takashi registered darkness and Nyanko Sensei’s voice calling his name, but all he could manage was rolling onto his stomach to ease his oversensitive neck.

A bell jingled, wood creaked, then footsteps came pounding across the floor. Takashi moaned as the pounding in his head escalated with it.

“Takashi-kun!”

“Oh heavens, what happened?”

“Takashi-kun, can you hear me? Please, you need to wake up.”

Getting air was a struggle. Takashi hacked out a single weak cough and whined into his pillow. Shigeru-san. He had to answer.

Someone’s fingers landed in his hair, and Takashi nearly screamed again. Heat seared out from the pinpoints of touch, and the hand yanked away. The spots washed cold, then hot, then cold again. Did he have a fever too?

“I’m calling an ambulance.”

Ambulance?

“Go.”

More footsteps, and the sliding of the door.

“Please Takashi-kun, hang in there. We’re going to fix this.”

Ambulances meant hospitals, and more pain, and—

“N-no… please…” 

Another wave of agony swept over him, and Takashi was mercifully plunged into oblivion.

\--~~--

“Touko, you go with him. I think he’ll need you more if he wakes up.”

“But—”

“I’ll pack overnight bags and come over as soon as the trains are running tomorrow. It’ll only be a few hours.”

Shigeru leaned down and Touko reached to meet him, pressing her forehead to his strong neck.

“Alright. I’ll be waiting.”

“Sir, ma’am! Please make a decision, we’re ready to leave.”

“Go,” Shigeru smiled and gave her a gentle push.

Touko hurried to the ambulance and pulled herself into the seat the paramedic offered.

She’d seen Takashi injured many times over the past few months, but this…. He’d been in so much pain. No matter how she thought about it, there was no way this was just a simple illness.

_Please, Takashi-kun, hang in there._

\--~~--

“Natsume-kun will not be joining us today, as his guardians called him in sick. But I don’t want to see any of you slacking off on exam preparations just because one person is out.”

Natsume was sick? “Mori-Sensei, did the Fujiwaras say anything else?” Satoru called.

Mori-Sensei frowned. “That’s Moriya-Sensei to you, and no, they did not. I am aware the two of you are friends, but please stay focused when you’re in school. You’ll be able to see him afterwards, I’m sure. Now.”

Satoru sighed and slumped to his desk. Maybe Acchan knew something? Though it didn’t seem likely. Natsume had looked fine just the other day, if a little bit (okay, a lottle bit) tired. Strange. Well, he’d just take Acchan and check on Natsume after school.

Still, he couldn’t shake that uneasy feeling that something more was wrong.

\--~~--

Touko jolted up from her seated doze when the clacking of heels announced the doctor’s arrival. Her calm, sea spray beta scent eased a little of Touko’s shock.

“Good morning, Fujiwara-san. My name is Kimura. I apologize for keeping you in the waiting room; we’ll arrange a better location for you to sleep tonight if you so choose.”

“Good morning, Kimura Sensei,” Touko stifled a yawn, before the rest of the doctor’s statement caught up with her. “Tonight? Does that mean Takashi-kun is…”

Kimura Sensei’s face turned serious. “I’m afraid so. Admittedly, I haven’t treated too many cases of omega-specific illness in my career, but I’ve never seen anything like what Natsume-san has. In light of that, I’m here to ask you some additional questions that could help us figure out how to help him.”

Touko twisted her fingers together in her lap. “Of course.”

“If you’ll follow me then.”

Kimura Sensei led Touko from the waiting area to what appeared to be a small examination room. Chairs were already pulled out, and a stack of papers and clipboards were waiting on the counter.

Pulling the papers toward her, Kimura Sensei sank heavily into a chair and Touko cautiously followed suit.

“First of all, Fujiwara-san, are you aware that beyond his current condition, Natsume-san exhibits textbook signs of fairly severe omega neglect?”

The weight that had been dragging at Touko’s chest for weeks now gave another firm yank, and she sighed. “Yes, my husband and I did some research shortly after accepting guardianship, and we noticed it. Takashi-kun… he won’t tell us everything, but I know he had a hard childhood.”

“It’s good that you did your homework. Have you been doing anything to support him and counter his symptoms?”

“We were told to make sure he had a room of his own, to give him attention without controlling him, and to offer plenty of… physical comforts? Touch therapy, I believe it was called.”

Kimura Sensei nodded, her scent even and encouraging.

“It took us a while to implement all of that, but we managed it in the end. We also discovered that he likes to… to clean, but I think it’s him trying to make himself useful to us.” Touko could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, remembering that first night, but she pushed on. “We made a sort of schedule for him, and a few chores to do every day so he wouldn’t wear himself out. That seemed to help.”

“Neglect and abuse, then,” Kimura Sensei sighed. “You and your husband did well, especially without professional help. I must warn you, Fujiwara-san, when Natsume-san recovers from this, he’ll still need a lot of support in other areas.”

“We’re ready to do whatever Takashi-kun needs to heal.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Then, next on the list. Natsume-san’s forms say he’s an omega, but…. This may seem like a ridiculous question, but please answer it anyway. Are you sure he isn’t a Blank?”

Touko startled. “A Blank? No, he’s definitely an omega. His scent’s always been a bit weak, but when it spikes it’s unmistakable.”

“I didn’t think so,” Kimura Sensei nodded, “but I had to make sure. The strangest part about Natsume-san’s case is that he has no scent at all right now. His pheromone-system organs are all healthy and in place, but they aren’t functioning.”

No scent? It seemed impossible, but the more Touko thought about it… she hadn’t scented Takashi in a week, and he’d been spending a good deal of time alone or outside the house. Days. She wasn’t sure how many, but she hadn’t been able to smell him in days. “Oh… no…”

“Is there anything you can tell me about this?” Kimura Sensei asked, oddly gentle.

“…I didn’t notice at all.” Touko pressed her hands to her mouth. “He doesn’t let me scent him very often, and his pheromones are always hard to pick out unless he’s stressed. It didn’t even occur to me.”

“It’s alright, Fujiwara-san,” Kimura Sensei murmured. “I can tell you take good care of him, and even the best of us miss things we’re not looking for. This is not something to blame yourself over.”

Touko swallowed hard. “Alright.”

Kimura Sensei studied her for a moment, apparently deciding she was clear to continue. “Finally, I believe Natsume-san has some advanced form of Repression Syndrome, although I can’t be sure until he wakes up to tell us exactly how he’s feeling.”

That had been something Touko had initially been worried about, but Takashi had never shown the signs. “But doesn’t Repression Syndrome usually happen to dynamics who go without territory or lose a mate? And I’ve never heard of it getting this bad…”

“You’re correct. Which brings me to my final questions.” Kimura Sensei paused, considering. “Do you know how Natsume-san marks his room? The saturation of his scent, arrangement of his nest, things like that.”

Slowly shaking her head, Touko tried to recall. “I know he didn’t do much to his room when he first arrived, but we had a discussion about it, and I gave him some blankets and pillows— nesting material, you know?— that I know he used… I’ve tried not to invade his territory though, so I’m afraid… Oh!” A memory struck her, of a brief conversation with Shigeru the night Nishimura and Kitamoto-kun had come to their house. “One of Takashi-kun’s friends apparently said he wasn’t scenting his room at all, and that they were going to fix that… but I don’t know what happened after.”

“As expected. My best guess is that he hasn’t had much territory or safety in the past and is continuing old habits even now. If possible, check his room today so we can confirm if that is a cause.”

“Of course.” Touko checked her watch. “My husband is probably on his way already, but I can do that when I go home next.”

“Wonderful. As for the severity of Natsume-san’s symptoms, that’s the true mystery. His medical records are a mess, but from what I could parse out, he seems to have pheromone hypersensitivity. Still, that wouldn’t affect his condition anywhere near this much. The fact that he isn’t fully presented yet is also strange, as Repression Syndrome is typically very mild in unpresented dynamics. It could simply be a mutation, or there could be other factors we don’t know about.” Kimura Sensei pressed her fingers to her temple.

“I apologize, Fujiwara-san, I’m making this out to be very bleak. But we’ll solve this. Natsume-san is currently stable, and I know a few omega specialists who will be far more help than I.”

A chime dinged softly from overhead. “Ah, I need to go for now, you should see if your husband has arrived. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

Dazed, Touko bowed and left the room. She was mildly surprised when Shigeru met her as she stepped around the corner, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her. Touko pressed her nose against his neck, breathing in his calming, polished wood scent with new appreciation.

“Touko? How is Takashi-kun?”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m not entirely sure. The doctor said he was stable, at least, but they wouldn’t let me see him. He might have a very bad form of Repression Syndrome, but… even the doctor didn’t know.”

“Repression Syndrome? But Takashi-kun isn’t…” A crease formed between Shigeru’s brows. Touko tried to smooth it away with a gentle finger.

“I know. We’ll just have to wait until he wakes up to know for sure.”

\--~~--

Pacing furiously up and down the hall as far as the phone cord would allow, Satoru scowled as his call went to voicemail for the third time. They’d been to Natsume’s house, but no one had answered the door. Atsushi had reluctantly suggested that maybe Natsume was at the hospital, then dragged Satoru away before he could panic and do something stupid like try to break in.

“I don’t think they’re home, Sacchan. Give it a rest,” Acchan suggested softly, tugging the receiver from Satoshi’s hands.

“Dammit,” Satoru hissed. Storming up the stairs, he pushed into his room and flung himself into his nest. Acchan followed at a much slower pace, shutting the door behind him.

The blankets sank on one side as Atsushi sat down. For a full minute, Satoru just lay there, breathing in his own scents of safety and home, and Acchan’s mellow coffee bitterness.

“Sorry, Acchan. You didn’t deserve that,” Satoru muttered into his pillow, a little ashamed.

“No harm done,” Acchan said, easy as always. “I’m stressed too.”

Warm fingers pressed firmly along Satoru’s spine, up and up until they reached the tingling pressure point on the back of his neck. Immediately, Satoru relaxed into the trusted touch. With a scent that couldn’t offer the usual comforts of an alpha, Acchan always seemed to enjoy massaging as replacement.

For a few minutes, Satoru allowed himself to just bask in Acchan’s comfort. Their relationship was a bit strange, he knew— a little less than mates and a little more than friends— but he didn’t mind. 

“I hope he’s alright.”

“Me too. We can check again tomorrow before school.”

Neither of them said it aloud, but Satoru knew they were both thinking it. Natsume got hurt all the time, but he’d only once been to a clinic for a badly sprained wrist that even Touko-san’s skilled hands couldn’t fix. Any other hospital-related mentions made him skittish. If Natsume really was at the hospital, with _both_ Fujiwaras with him? Satoru wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about hospital and ambulance procedure in Japan so… oops?
> 
> I dunno how [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) works, but feel free to come scream at me!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up dumpster fam, sorry about the delay. If you didn't see my tumblr, I had to write a decoy fic for my decoy account that I can safely show to people who ask what I write. So.
> 
> More Importantly: 300 KUDOS??!???!!! WTH is this. Why are there so many of you? Where did you all come from? How are you all so amazing? I read all the comments every chapter like  
> [](https://imgur.com/NaGNBeQ)

Takashi’s dreams were dark, swirling with sharp voices and empty rooms and smiling mouths with too many teeth. When he woke, it was with a heavy fog of confusion, and it took him entirely too many minutes to figure out where he was.

If he focused, Takashi could remember a flood of pain, and screams that were probably his own, but that wasn’t something he wanted to relive at all. Instead, he stared at the while tiles in the ceiling, counting them slowly and trying to keep his breathing under control. Why was he in the hospital this time?

A soft wheeze to the right drew Takashi’s attention, and he painfully turned his head a few inches. Touko-san was sleeping in a plastic chair against the wall, her head drooping onto her chest and faint snores escaping with every breath. It looked highly uncomfortable.

Slowly, Takashi scanned the room, trying to puzzle his situation.

Besides Touko-san, he seemed to be the only occupant. That was good. An air conditioner hummed quietly from a corner, and its normally unobtrusive sound grated on Takashi’s ears. On his left, a single window allowed bright moonlight to stream into the room and over his face. Takashi wondered how long he’d been asleep. He was pretty sure there was an IV needle stuck in his hand, though he couldn’t move enough to check. His whole body ached, especially his scent glands, and it was hard to stay focused.

He couldn’t smell anything.

Resigned, Takashi let his eyelids slip shut again. He really should wake Touko-san so she could find a more comfortable place to sleep, but the thought of being alone in this cold, dark room… he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Selfish.

Inexplicable exhaustion was fogging Takashi’s brain, and he relented to the oncoming darkness. He’d feel better in the morning, leave the hospital, and stop troubling Touko and Shigeru-san. And then, it seemed he would owe Hinoe another visit. Surely this counted as “another problem.”

\--~~--

Touko tried to roll out the crick in her neck as she watched Kimura Sensei carefully check Takashi-kun’s vitals once again. Unless he’d woken up at one of the few times in the night when she or Shigeru or Kimura Sensei hadn’t been awake to see it, Takashi-kun had been asleep for over 24 hours. It was more than a little worrying.

“Everything seems stable,” Kimura Sensei announced, leaning back. “It’s up to him now to wake up. Normally I would recommend touch or scent therapy to help bring him back, but…” she shrugged helplessly. “With Repression Syndrome _and_ his current Blank state, those things will probably hurt more than help.”

Touko bowed her head in acknowledgement and returned to watching Takashi’s sleeping face. It was so very much like the first day she’d seen him, lying still and pale and broken, so small in the giant hospital bed.

“I’ve called a friend who specializes in omega treatment, and he’ll be here around twelve. I don’t have any other appointments today, so if Natsume-san wakes up before then, don’t hesitate to let me know.” Kimura Sensei paused at the door. “And make sure to take care of yourself as well, Fujiwara-san.”

“Thank you, Sensei,” Touko gave her a seated bow and Kimura Sensei left, heels clicking as she walked away.

It was a struggle to refrain from touching Takashi. Kimura Sensei had warned her that even something as light as combing fingers through his hair could set off his symptoms again, and they had to keep him stable until they could figure out what exactly was wrong.

So instead, Touko leaned her head against her clasped hands and hoped he could feel her love even at a distance. “Takashi-kun… please come back to us.”

\--~~--

By the time twelve o’clock rolled around, Shigeru was the only one waiting at the hospital. He’d managed to convince Touko to go home for a few hours when she’d been unable to keep her eyes open. Still, she’d only agreed when he added that Nyangoro needed to be fed, and that Kimura Sensei wanted a scent sample from Takashi-kun’s room if they could find one.

He drifted in and out of Takashi-kun’s hospital room, never able to stay by his side for more than a few minutes. It was too hard to watch Takashi-kun’s still, silent face, to smell nothing but the hospital’s sterility. Shigeru didn’t know how Touko was strong enough to bear it.

Another wave of regret washed over him, regret that he’d failed to give proper weight to Nishimura-kun’s worries, that he hadn’t discussed this possibility with Touko.

“Fujiwara-san?”

Shigeru looked up. A young man stood before him, omega, if the cherry blossom scent was anything to go by, with a white lab coat and, intriguingly, hair dyed a faded red. His voice was soft, but his back was straight, and his head was held high.

“That’s me. Are you the omega specialist?”

The man dipped his head in a nod. “My name is Mino. I’m here to help Natsume-san.”

Shigeru sighed in relief. “Thank you very much Mino Sensei.”

The doctor offered a half-smile and shook his head. “Don’t thank me yet. Would you like to be in the room while I work with Natsume-san, or would you rather wait here?”

“I… think I’ll join you.” 

“Good. Kimura Sensei is already waiting for us.”

He turned and Shigeru followed. It was only a vague first impression, but Mino Sensei seemed competent and reliable. He prayed that this would be the first and only specialist they’d have to call in.

\--~~--

Shigeru kept himself safely in the back of the room and out of the way as Mino Sensei and Kimura Sensei hovered over Takashi, trading ideas in low voices. He could catch snippets of their conversation here and there, and he could tell they were frustrated by their inability to touch Takashi in their examinations.

“…stable, I just don’t understand—”

“…seen this before, only… were much older…”

“—possibly the presentation… files say no mate… no family…”

The room suddenly darkened, just a shade, and Shigeru shivered. But when he checked, the lights hadn’t flickered, and the sun was as bright as ever. When he looked back, he caught the tail end of Kimura Sensei’s shrug. Strange.

After a few more minutes of murmured exchange, Mino Sensei and Kimura Sensei turned to him.

“This is an unusual case,” Mino Sensei began, “but I’m reasonably sure Natsume-san has a rare form of Repression Syndrome that branched off into sensory deprivation and false presentation.”

Shigeru took that in slowly. All the terms were familiar to him separately, but together, he wasn’t sure what they meant.

“In other words, as far as Mino can tell, Natsume-san has had mild Repression Syndrome for a long time that was keeping his scent muted and stopping his body from going through with presentation. This is common in cases of alpha and omega children’s neglect and abuse. However, when he came to live in your household, he was suddenly getting enough friendly touch and scent to begin countering the effects of the syndrome. I imagine his body finally activated the hormones necessary for presentation,” Kimura Sensei explained.

“Based on the information you and your wife gave, and Natsume-san’s records, his unusually high sensitivity meant he should have presented at around thirteen, possibly earlier.” Mino Sensei dragged a hand though his hair, and his scent was heavy. “Although of course, given the circumstances Natsume-san was under, it was best he remained unpresented.”

“…So when Takashi-kun started pulling away from us?” Shigeru asked, his heart sinking.

Mino Sensei nodded. “That would be the sensory deprivation and the false presentation. Without enough scent and touch to continue his recovery, the Repression Syndrome set back in, only amplified, ironically, by having had a taste of healthy normalcy. It is one of the great tragedies of our biology.”

“And with the Repression Syndrome back, but his body already setting his presentation in motion, Natsume-san crashed.” Kimura Sensei finished.

There was a long pause, the air swirling with three bleak scents.

“What can we do to help Takashi-kun heal?” Shigeru finally asked.

Mino Sensei blew out a long breath that ruffled his bangs. “I have a few ideas, but for now, not much. Touch therapy could be dangerous, and scent therapy useless. I’m going to finish running these tests, but Natsume-san will likely require some kind of external trigger to wake up again.”

“I see,” Shigeru said quietly.

“In the meantime, you should try to relax,” Mino Sensei suggested. “Go home, take a walk, or eat something. We’ll keep watch over Natsume-san.” He stood.

Shigeru bowed to them both. “Thank you, Sensei.”

“Of course.” Mino Sensei smiled gently. “Don’t worry too much. Despite how it looks, we’re not in dire straits yet.”

Following both doctors out the room, Shigeru sighed. Maybe he would go home, if only to make sure Touko was resting properly and get some sleep himself.

\--~~--

From his place at the tiny window, Madara peered into the room and watched Shigeru and the two other humans leave. The brat was small on the large bed in the middle of the room, and Madara huffed. 

In the end, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from coming. Really, he’d planned to just wait in the warm comforts of Natsume’s room. But something had nudged at him, and now he was here. It was probably his duty as a bodyguard. Disgusting.

Two dustball ayakashi were settled in the corner of the room, but they seemed to have no interest in Natsume and were doing nothing but sitting there and trembling, so Madara let them lie.

With a low rumble, he tucked his claws beneath him and prepared for a wait. The brat was going to owe him so many manju after this.

\--~~--

“Hey… Nishimura?”

Satoru turned at Tanuma’s call, raising an eyebrow in answer. “Yeah?”

“Would it be alright if I joined you two?”

“…To find Natsume?”

“Ah, yes. Sorry, I know it’s a bit strange…”

It _was_ strange. Tanuma had once again joined him and Acchan for lunch and expressed the appropriate amount of concern for Natsume’s disappearance, but as far as Satoru could figure, he’d only actually interacted with Natsume twice. And the second time hadn’t really been pretty.

Still, Tanuma seemed like a decent guy, and the more people to take care of Natsume, the better. Satoru didn’t see any reason why not.

“Sure,” he offered. “We’re going to the Fujiwara’s house though, which I know is out of your way.”

“That’s not a problem.” Tanuma bowed slightly. “Thank you very much.”

Satoru flapped a hand at him. “No need to be so formal. I just hope Natsume is actually there this time.”

“Mmhm.”

Satoru glanced over at the lackluster answer, but Tanuma’s face was tight, and his eyes were distant, fixed on something Satoru couldn’t see. Acchan was right; he really did look like Natsume when he did that.

\--

It was Acchan who knocked on the heavy wooden frame of the Fujiwara’s door while Satoru hovered just behind. They waited. Acchan would always be Satoru’s preferred alpha scent, but he had to admit it was calming to have Tanuma’s strong and steady pine scent at his side as well.

A rattling noise came from the house, and Satoru stood at attention. The door slid open to reveal Shigeru-san, with shadows under his eyes and his face and scent both tinged with surprise.

“Oh, Kitamoto-kun and Nishimura-kun? And another of Takashi-kun’s friends...?”

Tanuma hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Tanuma Kaname. It’s nice to meet you, Fujiwara-san.”

“I see you’ve already heard of me,” Shigeru-san said with a small laugh. “Feel free to call me Shigeru. Come on in.”

Satoru followed him into the house, biting back his questions until they were settled in the living room.

“I expect you’re here about Takashi-kun, then?” Shigeru-san finally asked as he set several cups of water on the table.

“Yes!” Satoru burst out, unable to wait any longer. “Where is he? Is he okay? Sensei said he was sick, but we came here yesterday and no one was home…”

Shigeru-san sighed heavily. “Right now, he’s in the hospital, and we were with him all day yesterday.”

There was a short pause, and Satoru’s concern ratcheted up tenfold.

“You boys all know what Repression Syndrome is?”

Acchan and Tanuma nodded slowly, but Satoru’s heart plunged. Had Natsume had it this whole time, but Satoru’d just been too willfully blind to notice? He’d thought it was weird, Natsume’s almost non-existent scent and late presentation, and the state of his room… sure, he’d mentioned it once or twice, but it was hard to seriously consider the idea of his friend having Repression Syndrome. With how kind and caring the Fujiwaras were, it seemed impossible.

“That’s what he’s in the hospital for, only there are… complications.”

“Complications?” Acchan asked steadily.

The bags under Shigeru-san’s eyes seemed to cast his whole face in shadow. “Perhaps you’ve noticed, but over the past couple of weeks, Takashi-kun has become a Blank.”

At his side, Satoru heard Acchan suck in a breath. He couldn’t see Tanuma, but his scent was heavy, and strangely ashy. 

“The doctors say his entire pheromone system isn’t working. His body tried to begin presentation, but the Repression Syndrome stopped it. We’re still waiting for him to wake up.”

Satoru wavered on the terrible precipice of not wanting Shigeru-san to say another word, yet needing to know more.

“I was planning to return to the hospital in a few minutes if you would like to come with me.” Shigeru-san offered. “Of course, Takashi-kun will probably still be asleep, so it may not be worth visiting right now…”

Without hesitation, Satoru shot to his feet. “I’m going.”

He watched Acchan glance around their little huddle with a faint smile. “I think we all will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) if you want to see why I've let you down in a particular week!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, pulling plot points out of my ass: Yeah, this makes sense.

In the end, they left for the hospital in a group of five: Touko-san had apparently been woken from a nap by Satoru’s shouting and had insisted on joining them. Satoru was a little guilty about that, but she’d assured him that she would’ve gotten up anyway, so he let it be.

By the time they arrived the air was beginning to cool for the evening, but the approach of summer ensured that a jacket was unnecessary. Satoru was grateful for that at least, because he’d lost his a few days before and hadn’t yet worked up the courage to beg his parents for a new one.

They were met by a chattery nurse who brought them to Natsume’s room.

“Remember,” the nurse said as she opened the door for them, “no touching whatsoever. Mino Sensei will be back in about a half an hour with test results.”

Shigeru-san thanked her, and they all shuffled inside. It was weird, seeing Natsume like this. Satoru had always thought he’d acted a lot like the traditional, submissive picture of omegas, but even when he was skirting around alphas at school or sitting quiet and out of sight, Natsume always had a sort of… vibrancy about him. It was what had drawn Satoru in the first place. But now, that brightness was gone.

There were only a few chairs in the room, but they made do. After a brief argument, Acchan convinced the Fujiwaras to sit, and Satoru happily set himself on Acchan’s lap on the third chair. Tanuma had insisted on standing, and Satoru watched him curiously.

His stance was strong, and he had his eyes closed and head tilted, just a little, to the side. A classic sign of scenting, and a very alpha gesture.

Satoru wondered what Tanuma was smelling. All he’d been able to pick up was the decidedly nasty burn of lavender-and-bleach from the hospital, and Acchan’s usual light coffee scent. Then again, Satoru didn’t have the greatest of noses. Maybe Tanuma’s alpha senses had more to offer.

\--

As promised, the previously-mentioned Mino Sensei soon entered the room with a sour scent and a disturbingly grim look on his face.

Satoru was a hundred percent certain he wasn’t going to like what the doctor would have to say, but he was still glad to have the distraction. It was hard not to touch Natsume, when instincts were urging him to curl up beside his friend to offer comfort. He could see the restriction taking its toll on Touko-san, who had her hands clenched in her lap, and, oddly enough, Tanuma, who had been shifting from side to side, almost pacing really, for nearly the entire time they’d been watching over Natsume.

“Mino Sensei,” Touko-san offered the man a seated bow, her voice just barely steady. “Have you found anything?”

The doctor shook his head slowly. After a quick glance around their little group, he asked, “Are you… siblings? Friends of Natsume-san?”

“We’re his friends from school, Sensei,” Acchan offered.

“I see.” Mino Sensei turned back to the Fujiwaras. “As Natsume-san’s guardians, it’s up to you to decide whether they stay right now.”

Touko-san considered them for a moment. “No, these boys have played a big part in Takashi-kun’s recovery. I think it’s alright if they stay.”

“Of course.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Satoru could see Tanuma wince. He tried to nudge Tanuma and stop him from telling the doctor that he hadn’t been part of that “recovery group,” but came up a little too short. Acchan, being the best friend that he was, elbowed Tanuma firmly in the ribs in Satoru’s stead.

Mino Sensei moved to Natsume’s side where all the beeping, flashing machines were standing and began checking their readings as he spoke. “The test results were exactly what I’d expected, but frankly, hoped they wouldn’t be.”

Well that was already a great start.

“Natsume-san’s body, in an attempt to protect itself, has shut a lot of non-essential functions down, or at least lowered their capabilities. His senses in particular are affected. This is typical in omegas who have suffered various combinations of sensory deprivation and abuse, but it makes it difficult for outside stimulation to reach them. Natsume-san’s case is especially severe, which considerably shrinks our pool of possible treatments.” 

Mino Sensei’s face suddenly looked very tired, and Satoru was feeling pretty sick himself. It was one thing to know, logically, that Natsume hadn’t had a great childhood. It was another to see direct, medical evidence that Natsume had been—was—suffering, especially since he seemed to be fine most of the time.

“Outside of drugs—which I’m ignoring right now because they’re likely to make the Repression Syndrome worse—the only other option I’m aware of to reverse the syndrome is a limited form of touch therapy.” Mino Sensei sighed. “Again, this still comes with some risks. In my professional opinion, Natsume-san is unlikely to wake anytime soon without intervention, but waiting for something to happen naturally is a viable option.”

The Fujiwaras had been listening to all that with still, determinedly calm faces and scents. Satoru was suitably impressed, and grateful. Tanuma and Acchan’s sharp agitation was plenty enough for his nose.

“How would this touch therapy work?” Shigeru-san finally asked.

Mino Sensei nodded. “It’s really just standard touch therapy, only exclusive to close friends and family and with careful monitoring to ensure the patient doesn’t overstimulate. The success rate is fairly high, and I’ve never heard of it ending in death, though other health complications can occur.”

There was a heavy silence, and all heads turned to the Fujiwaras.

“Would you like to some time to think on it?”

Shigeru-san blew out a long breath. “Yes, please.”

Mino Sensei stood. “I would give it until tomorrow at least. I’ll be back here in the morning shortly before the hospital opens visiting hours. Will that be enough time?”

“I hope so,” Shigeru-san said with an odd laugh.

Touko-san spoke up. “Is there any way we can do additional research on this before tomorrow?”

With a thoughtful frown, Mino Sensei glanced at his clipboard. “For touch therapy, certainly. Any local library should have some material. For cases specific to Natsume-san’s?... I can offer you some files of previous patient with a similar situation if you’d like.”

“Thank you.”

“In that case, if you would follow me?” 

Both the Fujiwaras got up, then Touko-san paused. “Oh, I didn’t think. Boys, will you be alright waiting here or getting home on your own?”

“Sure thing, Touko-san,” Satoru waved her on with what he hoped was a casual flap of his hand. “We’d’ve had to leave soon anyway.”

“Alright then. Take care! I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again soon,” Touko-san said with a sad sort of smile. She followed Mino Sensei and Shigeru-san from the room.

Satoru shifted about until he could look at both Acchan and Tanuma. There was a moment of silence. 

“Shall we go then?” Satoru hopped off of Acchan’s lap, and ignored his friend’s subsequent groan and stretch.

He was almost to the door when Acchan spoke. “Hey, Tanuma, you okay?”

Looking back, Satoru found that Tanuma had moved closer to Natsume’s bed. His face was creased with a puzzled frown.

“…Yeah, I’m fine,” Tanuma said after a beat. “It’s just, there’s something…”

“Is there something wrong with Natsume?” Satoru asked, attention sharpening.

“It was definitely confirmed that his scent glands weren’t working, right?”

Satoru blinked. “You… you can smell him?”

Tanuma bit his lip. “No. At least, I don’t think so. There’s no particular scent, but I just— have the same feeling as if there was. It’s really odd for a beta…”

Satoru blinked again, and he and Acchan spoke in tandem. “A beta?”

“Yeah.” Tanuma looked back and forth between them and Natsume a few times. “Is he… not?”

Thankfully, Acchan took over when Satoru felt his jaw slip off his face and onto the floor.

“Natsume’s definitely an omega. Didn’t the doctor _just_ say something about how his case was similar to other omegas?”

Tanuma looked a strange mix of bewildered and ashamed, and it was reflected in the hazy, sour perfume of his scent. “I-I guess I assumed he was just comparing the symptoms.”

“And what about at school?” Satoru demanded, finally having hauled his jaw up off the ground. “You have fully-functioning alpha senses, right? Natsume’s unpresented, but his scent’s not _that_ invisible.”

“But he didn’t,” Tanuma really looked downright miserable now. “I got close to him for the first time in the hall a few days ago, and I couldn’t pick up much of anything off him, so I figured he was an unpresented beta. I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry.”

But Satoru’s mind was already whirling. “You… you met him _after_ his pheromone system started collapsing.” It wasn’t really a question.

“I guess?”

Satoru was already dragging him out the door, Acchan close at his heels. “Oh my god. Let’s go. We’ve got a _lot_ to talk about.”

\--~~--

Kaname was still dazed by the time he reached home and shut himself in his room. Natsume was an _omega_. The strange draw Kaname felt around him made far more sense now, and yet…

Other omegas had never made Kaname just want to _touch_ , though he’d always been warned he’d have to fight to keep his hands to himself around them. It was worrying. The sudden thrum down his spine when Natsume had accepted Kaname’s food that day on the roof and the desperate need to pull him close and protect him whenever he flinched couldn’t be normal either. But worst of all, he’d felt that same intense need when Natsume was lying _sick_ and _unconscious_ in a hospital bed.

Kaname shuddered. Was this how alphas felt when they claimed they couldn’t help themselves?

Maybe when Dad came home, he would have some advice. Stumbling into the shower, Kaname tried to scrub the dirty feelings from his skin, but they remained stubbornly slimy and unmoved. He sighed and knocked his head on the wall, just once, then stepped out and went to start dinner.

\--

Kaname spent most of the evening trying to pull his thoughts into some semblance of order. Dad watched him, quiet and considering, but didn’t question it.

Finally, when Dad was settled in his usual reading chair with a book in hand and Kaname was comfortable on the floor at his side, he decided it was the right time to ask.

“Hey, Dad?”

“What’s on your mind, Kaname?”

“So… I-I met an omega recently.”

Dad raised an eyebrow, but remained just as calm and attentive. That was one good thing about having a priest for a parent. He knew how to listen without judging.

“It’s only been a couple of days— I’ve only spent actual time with him like, twice, but…” How could he explain this without sounding like the creepy, predatory alpha he was turning out to be? “I just feel this sort of… pull to him.”

“A pull? As in compatible scents? Or as in finding him attractive?”

Kaname’s face burned. “No! Not that he doesn’t look good, but— I mean.” He wished the earth would swallow him just to shut him up. “He doesn’t have a scent. Or, I guess he did, but he’s sick right now, so I’ve never smelled him.”

A concerned crease appeared on Dad’s forehead. “Sick _and_ no scent?”

“Yeah. But for some reason I still feel like I… want to be near him.” Understatement of the year.

“I see.” 

They sat in weighted, but not uncomfortable silence for a long time.

At last, Dad spoke. “I’ve already told you how your mother and I met, yes?”

It was one of Dad’s favorite stories. “A few times.”

“Well, did I ever tell you that she’d already met and lost another alpha, her true mate, before she met me?”

Kaname stared. “Mom had a true mate?”

Dad offered him sad smile. “In a way. They never got to bond. She told me he’d been born with a wasting disease of some sort—she never mentioned exactly what—that slowly took away his scent and his senses. They were unable to smell each other, but your mother said they were drawn to each other from day one.”

“…That sounds like…”

“Sounds a little like what you’re experiencing, yes. I suppose it’s not guaranteed that you have the same situation, but I’ve always found it better to live with no regrets. And although I loved your mother and would never have wanted to give her up, I hope that if this omega really is _your_ true mate, your ending is happier than theirs.”

Dad ruffled Kaname’s hair before returning to his book, and Kaname was left to quietly retreat from the room.

Natsume as his true mate? No way. True mates were _rare_. Like, fairytales and dramas and whispers of a friend’s-cousin’s-sister meeting her fated partner kind of rare.

Still… it would be infinitely better than these feelings coming from some predatory alpha urge to take an omega. Maybe it would be worth talking to Nishimura and Kitamoto as well. They knew Natsume best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it's not clear contextually, "sensory deprivation" means lack of good scents and touch, not being locked in a dark, silent tank.
> 
> Also, to all of you who are enjoying my scent descriptions, here's your fun tidbit for the week: Tanuma's scents are all based on incense!
> 
> My [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) if you want to check for updates.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up, my dumpster fam?
> 
> There's been a lot of pain lately, so... here. Have a _tiny_ bit of fluff.
> 
> Also, this is me using up my buffer chapters bc I'm currently writing a Subnautica fic as well. You should still get a chap next week, but I'll post a tumblr notice if not.
> 
> TW for, like, a miniscule, well-intentioned second of non-con touching

Madara had been sleeping peacefully under the moonlight, curled up into a ball below Natsume’s window, when an insistent stomping on his head disturbed his rest. Blearily, he opened a single eye.

“What do you want, Hinoe?”

“ _Finally_ ,” Hinoe said with a frankly unnecessary eye roll. “I might’ve found something that can help dear Natsume.”

“And?”

“I’d need to see him first,” she sniffed.

With a grumble, Madara got to his feet, shook himself vigorously, and stepped aside. Hinoe promptly leapt up and vanished through the wall. Pressing one eye to the window, Madara followed her progress.

Hinoe had settled at Natsume’s side, and she was pressing two fingers to the side of his throat, frowning. For several minutes she simply sat there, focused on whatever it was that curse-crazy, disturbingly healer-like ayakashi could feel. At last she stood, pulled a calligraphy brush from the depths of her sleeve and painted a short, black spiral on Natsume’s forehead. She stuck her head back though the wall.

“I talked to a temple ayakashi from farther north who had more experience with human ailments,” Hinoe started, “and they suggested a stability charm they occasionally gave to their worshippers.”

“What does it do?” Madara asked, already suspicious and not bothering to hide it.

“Sorry, who’s helping you? Anyway, it was created to suppress and restore out-of-control spells, but the ayakashi I spoke with said it worked equally as well on humans. Natsume is compatible, and it should stop all the pesky symptoms.”

“Hmm…” Madara’s gaze was drawn back to Natsume’s still form. “How sure are you?”

Hinoe looked affronted. “Would I have suggested something that wouldn’t work? I have a reputation to uphold.” She turned away. “It should wake him without a problem, but as for what happens after…? Not even I can know.”

Popping back into Natsume’s room, Hinoe pulled a talisman once again from her sleeve, black lines already scrawling themselves over the paper as she went. With uncharacteristic gentleness, she pressed the talisman over the previously painted spiral.

“It may take some time to do its work.” Hinoe shrugged. “Send a messenger if my anything interesting happens!”

And she was gone into the night.

Madara sighed and curled up again. There would be little to see until the humans returned in the morning, and until then, he supposed he would do his job.

\--~~--

It was strange, Atsushi thought, as he followed a step behind Sacchan and Tanuma, how quickly Natsume had become an integral part of their lives. 

Atsushi had always been a pretty laid-back person— it was how he and Sacchan had become friends in the first place— but Natsume made him _fret _. Worry twisted his stomach into knots when Natsume was sick, didn’t come to class, was mysteriously injured, refused to nest, flinched away from friendly touch… it’d probably give him a heart attack sooner or later. Definitely sooner, now that Natsume was in the hospital maybe-dying of a _lack of affection_.__

__Even stranger was how quickly Tanuma had gotten attached. It left Atsushi somewhere between curious and suspicious, but he really believed that whatever was going on, Tanuma had good intentions. When the three of them had met along the way to the hospital, Tanuma had asked a few vague questions about Natsume’s past mates— Atsushi didn’t know much, but he was certain Natsume had never even considered such a thing— and had specifically asked Atsushi what he thought about Natsume’s scent— not unpleasant, but also not really there at all._ _

__Either Sacchan hadn’t picked up on the odd behavior, or he was hiding his suspicions well. Since it was Sacchan, Atsushi was guessing the former._ _

__Tanuma had been mostly quiet after that, and even Sacchan didn’t say much until they reached the hospital._ _

__The omega at the front desk apparently recognized them from the day before, and the three of them were waved right along to Natsume’s room. Atsushi was surprised to find it empty except for Mino Sensei, who was staring at Natsume’s monitors with a heavy frown. He looked up when they came in, and his expression eased a little, cherry blossom scent blooming in the air just strongly enough to be sensed over the hospital’s dampeners._ _

__“Welcome back,” Mino Sensei stepped forward to greet them._ _

__Atsushi offered a bow in return. “Is there something wrong, Sensei?” he asked politely._ _

__The frown returned, and after a short hesitation, Mino Sensei answered. “Not wrong so much as… disturbingly right. Natsume-san’s brain activity rose high enough for him to wake earlier this morning, and all his hormone levels have returned to normal. His scent has yet to return, but… well, if this continues, then I can almost guarantee the success of touch therapy, instead of it being a risk.”_ _

__A spark of hope lit in Atsushi’s chest. “Really?”_ _

__“Really,” Mino Sensei confirmed. “Would you like to wait here until the Fujiwaras arrive?”_ _

__“Sure.”_ _

__Sacchan was already pulling out chairs._ _

__“Then I’ll leave you to it.”_ _

__\--_ _

__Atsushi watched Tanuma hover over Natsume’s head, his scent a veritable flood of tangy uncertainty. He knew it would be useless anyway, but it was times like these that Atsushi wished he had a normal alpha scent, not to control the other dynamics, but to comfort them. A scent like Tanuma’s— strong, but not oversaturated, and always kept under control. Although at the moment, it was making even Atsushi agitated._ _

__Perched on the bed at Natsume’s side was Sacchan, chattering away about school, testing, that morning’s breakfast… simple, inane topics to fill the silence. It was what he did best._ _

__Atsushi remained in a chair closer to the foot of the bed, just wishing he could do more._ _

__It wasn’t long before the Fujiwaras arrived, and they’d barely exchanged ‘hellos’ before Mino Sensei was ushering them all over._ _

__“With Natsume-san’s improvement, I don’t feel the need for extreme precautionary measures as we carry out touch therapy, although I will of course still be here to monitor.” Mino Sensei informed them. “Since I already went over the process yesterday, Fujiwara-san, if you’d like to start?”_ _

__Touko-san immediately stepped forward, and Atsushi watched intently. With any luck, it wouldn’t take more than Touko-san to wake Natsume up, but just in case…_ _

__Neatly tucking her skirts beneath her, Touko-san sat at Natsume’s side and slowly laid her hand over his forehead, gently pushing aside his bangs. Natsume’s whole body visibly twitched. The air stilled, and Mino Sensei hurried over to the monitors, motioning for Touko-san to remain still. When nothing more happened after a few moments, Atsushi relaxed, could feel everyone else doing the same, and Touko-san carried on._ _

__Her normally tidy hair was just a little messy that day, and strands escaped the hold of her hairclip to fall in front of her face as she leaned close to Natsume. Atsushi looked away anyway, feeling too much like an intruder on such a tender moment. It was easy to see them as mother and son._ _

__They all waited quietly for what must have been nearly twenty minutes, save for Touko-san’s gentle murmuring in Natsume’s ear. At last, Mino Sensei cleared his throat, and she pulled her hand away, clearly reluctant._ _

__Atsushi expected Shigeru-san to take the next shift, but instead, Shigeru-san looked at him._ _

__“Kitamoto-kun?”_ _

__Atsushi blinked. “Of course I will, but… are you sure?”_ _

__Shigeru-san smiled sadly. “Touko is much closer to Takashi-kun than I am, and I think it would be better to try an alpha, rather than another beta.”_ _

__Glancing over at Mino Sensei, Atsushi received a nod, so he took the few short steps (that somehow managed to stretch for miles) over to Natsume’s side. He wondered how much help he’d be, given that he wasn’t really even a true alpha. But he’d try his best._ _

__Natsume’s arms were resting on top of the sheets, so Atsushi went to touch his hand. He hesitated. For so long, touching Natsume had been practically taboo, and it felt strange to do so now, when Natsume was at his most vulnerable._ _

__Tentatively, Atsushi curled his fingers around Natsume’s palm, nearly jerking away when Natsume’s hand flexed. Again, he froze with everyone else, eyed the monitors, relaxed._ _

__“You can’t keep doing that to us, Natsume,” Atsushi muttered weakly._ _

__After a few minutes of simply holding Natsume’s hand, Atsushi risked movement, cautiously brushing his thumb over knuckles and fingers, then sliding a little higher to loosely encircle Natsume’s wrist just above the scent gland. Natsume still had no scent, but Atsushi was soothed anyway. Maybe it was feeling the pulse and warmth under his pale skin._ _

__Atsushi gave Natsume’s wrist a quick squeeze, and Natsume’s breath stuttered, then evened out into deep, long breaths. Atsushi glanced up, hopeful, and Mino Sensei offered him an encouraging smile._ _

__“It’s not wakefulness, but that’s a breathing pattern used when unconsciously chasing a scent,” Mino Sensei explained. “He seems to be responding well to the alpha dynamic. If you’re willing to risk it, perhaps Tanuma-san can try?”_ _

__Tanuma looked inexplicably startled, given what they’d all come here to do, and his scent burned low with uncertainty._ _

__“Is that… okay?”_ _

__Stepping aside, Atsushi waved Tanuma over. “You _are_ the most alpha of all of us.” He hoped he looked confident._ _

__

__\--~~--_ _

__

__As Kaname took Kitamoto’s place on the bed, all he could hear was the heavy throb of his heartbeat in his ears. Now that he knew— that Natsume was an omega, his ability to see youkai, the possibility of true mates, that Natsume’d suffered long enough to have his own body turn on him— the pull was even stronger. Kaname only hoped he’d be able to stop himself from going all the way to gathering Natsume up in his arms, curling around him and trying to protect him, even though there was no longer anything to protect him from._ _

__He’d been too much of a coward, or maybe just too confused, to directly ask Nishimura and Kitamoto if they though he and Natsume could be true mates. Kaname would have to find out for himself._ _

__Gently, he laid his hand over Natsume’s much like Kitamoto had done, lining up their fingers. Natsume had dainty hands, Kaname noticed, and his own fingers covered Natsume’s completely. His skin was tingling with the contact._ _

__After a few moments, he realized his inner alpha had been unconsciously searching for Natsume’s scent, but of course there was nothing to find. Still, instinct nudged Kaname cautiously up the outside of Natsume’s arm, all the way up to his neck. When Kaname reached the neck gland, he paused, fingers hovering just above. His body was screaming that touching was exactly what they both needed, but Kaname couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Scent glands were private things, reserved for family and friends with express permission to touch, and Kaname was very far from either._ _

__Unfortunately for him, Mino Sensei picked up on his hesitation._ _

__“While as an omega I appreciate your respect, I believe in this case it will be beneficial to Natsume-san.” Mino Sensei tilted his head with a sad smile. “Occasionally, it _is_ better to ask forgiveness than permission.”_ _

__Kaname nodded silently and returned his attention to Natsume. Even if it was for the best, the thought of hurting his true mate at all—and God, he really was already seeing Natsume that way—was unbearable._ _

__Feather-light, Kaname lowered his fingers to brush over Natsume’s scent gland. Natsume shuddered beneath the touch. Steeling himself, Kaname again dropped his hand to cover the gland, more permanently his time. He flinched when Natsume gasped, twitched— and opened his eyes._ _

__“Natsume!”_ _

__“Takashi-kun!”_ _

__Several voiced cried out at once and chairs clattered over the floor, but Kaname was frozen by the confusion and terror rising in Natsume’s eyes._ _

__His alpha raged at the loss, but Kaname forced himself to yank his hand away and leap off the bed. Touko and Shigeru-san and Nishimura rushed to take his place, so Kaname was able to quietly step into the background, hands twisting together._ _

__For a brief second, he met Kitamoto’s serious eyes, and understanding—though Kaname wasn’t exactly sure what kind—passed between them. Then Kitamoto swept past him, leaving his oddly neutral scent in his wake, and Kaname was left to pick apart his churning thoughts on his own._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates/delays will be posted on my [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY DUDES. MY TRASH FAM. 30,000 WORDS, 400 KUDOS, AND 100 BOOKMARKS???????  
> god i wish i was this popular and accomplished in real life
> 
> Anyways, as warned in the last chap, this is the end of my buffer chapters. There will be no Home and Heart chap next weekend, though i will be posting the second chap of my Subnautica fic, and no chap the weekend after that bc I will be moving into dorms and starting classes and generally being very busy. After that, it depends on how much writing I get done in the chaos.  
> I will keep you posted via Tumblr!

Takashi’s first few seconds of consciousness were a swirl of nausea. Someone was looming over him, his skin was burning in a trail up his arm, and a wave of voices pounded against his eardrums. Shrinking back, Takashi tried to escape the dark figure above him, and to his surprise, whoever it was actually left. Takashi could breathe.

Slowly, his world cleared. Touko-san and Shigeru-san were hovering low at his side, vibrant against the stark backdrop of white hospital walls and blankets and tiles. It was Nishimura’s voice that had echoed above the rest, Takashi realized—why was he here? Kitamoto’s face appeared in the corner of Takashi’s vision, and his heart sank even further.

A man in a long white coat was standing against the opposite wall, and Takashi immediately marked him as the doctor. He shivered. At least this one was small and slender and unobtrusive. And wearing a sweater under his coat.

Something was tingling, dragging at the edges of Takashi’s attention, and he cast around the room for the source. 

Tanuma was the last person Takashi had expected to see.

Instinctively, he knew that was the person who’d been standing over him, the one who’d dragged fire over his skin. Takashi whimpered.

Forget Nishimura, why was _Tanuma_ here? After everything Takashi had done. Had Nishimura and Kitamoto brought him? And why had Tanuma been _touching_ him?

Takashi struggled to bring a hand up to rub over his skin, but his arms were heavy and refused to do more than twitch.

“Takashi-kun,” Touko-san’s voice was soft and intent. “How are you feeling?”

His body was still aching, but not so much that he didn’t think he could move. Scents were still missing, and Takashi longed to have them back. Whatever Tanuma had done to him was still prickling, and Takashi didn’t _understand_ — 

But that wasn’t what Touko-san needed to know. 

“I’m okay.”

Takashi’s throat was dry, and his voice cracked on the second word. Carefully, he licked his chapped lips, wincing at the chalky taste that lingered in his mouth.

“Do you remember what happened?”

That was from Nishimura, and with significant effort, Takashi twisted his head around to look at him.

Pain. Pain was what happened. And it was almost certainly related to his broken scent.

“Not really.”

He watched as everyone in the room shared a glance with everyone else. Takashi knew those looks. They were the faces of disappointment, of bad news, of informing Takashi that he would be going to a new family soon. He almost laughed. He didn’t even need _youkai_ to dismantle his life anymore.

“I’m sorry. Please, let me stay a little longer. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Takashi would try a lot harder this time, now that he knew the consequences. Hinoe wasn’t the only youkai he could ask for help.

Everyone’s gazes flicked back to Takashi with various amounts of emotion twisting their features.

“What?” Nishimura’s face was thunderous, just as it had been the day Takashi visited his room. Takashi hoped against hope it still wasn’t directed at him.

“Takashi-kun… what makes you think we want you to leave?” Touko-san’s gentle, slightly-calloused hands wrapped around one of his. Takashi flinched, but the hands stayed.

“The… hospital,” Takashi forced out, “is a big expense, I know. And I cause a lot of trouble for you.”

How could he explain to someone as wonderful and kind as Touko-san, when it seemed she was still willing to let him stay? Every family had a threshold, and no matter how high, it was always Takashi’s long, costly treatments at the hospital that managed to cross them. How much more would the Fujiwaras put up with, after this?

“Oh, Takashi-kun,” Touko-san sighed, smoothing her thumb along Takashi’s knuckles. Her eyes were shiny.

“What we told you that day in the kitchen still stands,” Shigeru-san said, “We _want_ you here, Takashi-kun. We’re not going to make you go.”

It was unfair. They were so sincere and _good_ , waiting patiently for Takashi no matter what he did. Would he have been better for them if he’d reached them sooner?

Tears slipped down Takashi’s cheeks in hot trails, he couldn’t quite catch a full breath, his vision was blurred, and a disgusting, strangled gasp of a sob escaped him, and people were _watching_ —

Then two shadows fell over him, blocked him off from the rest of the room, and Shigeru-san’s arm was around his shoulders and Touko-san was pressing a soft handkerchief to his face. Takashi curled up into himself, into _them_ , and let himself cry until darkness gently took him back under.

\--~~--

They told him what had happened, why it had happened. Takashi kept quiet for most of the explanation, because what was he supposed to say? He’d known that he hadn’t been living exactly like a normal, healthy omega was supposed to— no thanks to the youkai he could never seem to avoid— but to have let himself deteriorate this far? Takashi secured his gaze firmly on the creases of his sheets and trembled under Touko-san’s constant, soothing touch.

The doctor was an omega, Takashi was surprised to learn. He’d never met one before. Takashi’s examinations were kept swift and clinical, and never sparked the desperate urge to escape; and by the end of the day Takashi was out of the hospital, breathing in the cool evening air and trying not to lean too hard on Shigeru-san as he walked.

Nishimura, Kitamoto, and Tanuma had all left sometime after Takashi had fallen back asleep, but Touko-san assured him they would visit in the morning. Takashi still wasn’t sure what to feel about that, so he ignored it and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

A familiar jingle from the bushes drew Takashi’s attention.

“…Nyanko Sensei?”

And it was. He yowled at them, sniffing at Takashi’s ankles.

“Nyankichi? How on earth did you get here?” Touko-san exclaimed, bending down to pick Nyanko up. “Goodness, you’re all dirty. Were you waiting for Takashi-kun?”

“Meow.”

Touko and Shigeru-san exchanged a look.

“I’ve never heard of a cat being so loyal before,” Shigeru-san said slowly, “but I’m certainly not about to complain. Now, how are we going to get you back home? You can’t come on the train.”

In response, Sensei wriggled and leapt from Touko-san’s startled grasp, vanishing back into the bushes.

“Oh!—” Touko-san crouched to try and find him, but Takashi knew Sensei was already gone.

“I… I think he’ll be alright,” Takashi said quietly.

The Fujiwaras still looked worried.

“He got here, after all.”

“Well, you do know him best,” Touko-san said with a laugh. “Although I’m not sure what we could do if he did need us to take him back.”

They carried on.

Takashi watched Madara’s long, brilliantly white tail flutter behind him as he soared off into the sky.

\--

The stack of papers the doctor had given them sat ominously in the center of the table.

Touko and Shigeru-san were methodically reading their way through the pile and Takashi watched them silently, nursing a cup of tea that burned his tongue whenever he tried to drink it. He wished he could flee to his room, but so far, the Fujiwaras had refused to let him out of their sight. Takashi could hardly blame them. Still.

Abruptly, he stood, and both Touko and Shigeru-san’s gazes snapped up.

“I’m just… going to the bathroom.”

Touko-san nodded, and Takashi ran.

Splashing some cold water his face, Takashi tried to relax. There was nothing he could do about his situation right now. It was all up to the mercy of the Fujiwaras.

He looked up, and his attention caught on the mirror. There was a large black spiral painted on his forehead. Slowly, Takashi brought a finger up to trace it.

“What…”

“That’s Hinoe’s work,” Nyanko drawled.

Takashi spun around. Nyanko Sensei was crouched at the bathroom door, watching him with golden eyes.

“She found a spell to suppress your symptoms. The talisman already burned off.”

“My…” Takashi’s body was still achy and heavy, and neither his scent nor his sense of smell had returned. “Was it… worse, before?”

Idly, Nyanko scratched behind one ear. “Who knows if you would’ve woken up?”

Takashi waited to feel something, anything at that statement, but there was only a distant buzzing in his head. “Oh.”

He sank to the floor, rested his head against the cool tiles of the wall. “Will it go away?”

“Supposedly, once there are no more symptoms that need to be suppressed,” Nyanko said with a shrug. “I’m hungry.”

“…Okay. But you’re not bothering Touko-san for it.” Takashi took one last look at his reflection before scooping Nyanko up and returning to the kitchen.

\--~~--

Turning up at Natsume’s house the next morning was weirdly nerve wracking. Satoru had invited Tanuma to join them, but he had only gone quiet over the phone before politely declining. So that was odd too.

It was Touko-san who let him and Acchan in, and she ushered them to the kitchen with a finger over her lips. Apparently, Natsume was still asleep, or at least quietly resting in his room.

“Are you ready for this, boys?”

Satoru nodded firmly. He’d been up half the night, just reviewing the recovery treatments Mino Sensei had given them. Acchan had only sighed long-sufferingly when he heard, and informed Satoru that if he paid even half as much attention to his schoolwork, he’d be making A’s. Satoru didn’t buy it. The point was, he’d never been more ready to help Natsume.

After giving them a tray of snacks, Touko-san waved the two of them upstairs, and Satoru softly knocked on the frame of Natsume’s door.

“’Morning, Natsume,” he called, “you in there?”

There were a few seconds of silence. Then footsteps padded on the floor and the door cracked open to reveal Natsume’s pale, drawn face.

“Oh. Hi Nishimura. Hi Kitamoto.”

The door slid open all the way, and Satoru cautiously stepped inside. Last time he’d been here, he’d been so horrified by the state (non-existence, really) of Natsume’s nest that he hadn’t felt the breach of privacy. Now he was.

God, Natsume looked awful. He always looked tired, but now there were bruised shadows beneath his eyes, and Satoru felt the urge to hover at Natsume’s side just in case his visibly shaking body gave out on him.

The room was as empty as the first time he’d seen it, possibly even emptier, except for Natsume’s creepy cat perched on top of a mostly-bare shelf. It stared at him. Satoru stared back. The oddly blank, sterile scent of the room was only making it more disconcerting. There wasn’t much they could do about Natsume’s scent at the moment, but that wasn’t going to stop Satoru.

“So!” He exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “What should we start with?”

Natsume blinked up at him, then looked back down. “I… don’t know.”

Taking in Natsume’s hunched shoulders, unsteady stance, and refusal to meet his _or_ Acchan’s eyes, Satoru recalled a passage from the pamphlets he’d stayed up late to read.

_When first given the opportunity to live freely, make their own choices, and claim their own territory, many abused omegas will struggle to cope. To anyone who has never been under another’s complete control this may seem odd, but omegas who have spent years being told what they can and cannot do, often with bitter consequences for rebellion, making decisions without knowledge others may expect them to have is nearly impossible._

_To counter this, it may be most helpful give the omega direction, or change how questions and offers are phrased. For example, instead of asking a vague question with many possible answers, narrow questions down to only two or three options. This gives them the opportunity to make a choice without becoming overwhelmed. If they came from a situation where they were looked down on or abused specifically_ because _of their omega status, it is often best to assume they know little to nothing about practical, everyday life for an omega. Explain nests, territory, heat, scenting, and mates. They know they are lacking information and will be ashamed of it, so answer any and all questions they may have, as kindly as possible._

A bit wordy, but fine. He and Acchan could totally do this.

“Let’s start with your nest, then,” Satoru said. “You only have the futon, right?”

“And the blankets,” Natsume murmured.

“Of course,” Satoru agreed. “May I take all that stuff out?” He gestured at the closet.

Natsume nodded, so he opened the door and helped Acchan drag out the bedding. Satoru blinked. There, folded neatly on top on the pile was the nesting material he and Acchan had given Natsume that day at the crepe truck.

“You really did use these?” Satoru lifted Acchan’s blanket to the light. Atsushi’s scent was still very strong on it.

Natsume made a tiny, choked noise. When Satoru saw his face, he knew. He opened his mouth, panic bubbling in his stomach. He’d gotten excited too soon. What was he supposed to say now?

“It’s okay, Natsume,” Acchan said, his voice so gentle even Satoru softened. “…Was it too hard?”

A gasp that might have been a whimper escaped Natsume’s throat, and he nodded again.

“Well, that’s good then. You didn’t force yourself to do something you weren’t comfortable with just because you thought we would like it.”

Thank God for Acchan. Satoru offered his brightest smile. “Don’t worry about it at all, Natsume. We’ll work up to it!”

“…Okay,” Natsume whispered, and Nishimura counted it as a win.

“I’ll go ask Shigeru-san for the extra nesting material he mentioned. Why don’t you two start on the nest structure?” Acchan offered, ever practical.

“Go for it.”

Natsume still hadn’t moved from the sort-of corner he was standing in, and Satoru tentatively shuffled over to him.

“You good, Natsume?”

“I…” he paused, “I’m sorry.”

Satoru immediately opened his mouth to counter Natsume’s _completely unnecessary apology_ , but Natsume continued.

“You and Kitamoto are working so hard to… to help me, but I can’t even help myself.”

There was something dark and bitter in Natsume’s voice, and Nishimura had no doubt that if his scent hadn’t been repressed, it would’ve been sour in the air. It felt like a punch to the stomach. Maybe several consecutive punches.

Satoru’s own scent was trying to project happiness and calm, and obviously it wasn’t going to help, but body apparently hadn’t gotten with the program. If he couldn’t use his scent, what else would help?

He extended an arm to Natsume and left it hanging in the air between them, an unspoken request and offer. 

Heartbreakingly slowly, Natsume met him in the middle, lightly brushing over Satoru’s fingers and up his knuckles, and Satoru turned his hand over to expose his inner wrist. Natsume’s gaze flickered up to his face and back down before he hesitantly pressed a thumb to the scent gland. Tilting his hand down, Satoru nodded in encouragement, and was rewarded with Natsume smudging his thumb over Satoru’s wrist, then switching fingers to scent him a little longer.

It was scentmarking of the most fleeting and innocent kind, but Satoru already felt better after doing it. He and Natsume really _were_ compatible. Not like alphas and omegas were, not like mates, just… scents that aligned. Temperaments that matched. 

Natsume pulled his hand away, and Satoru reluctantly took his back as well. It ended up being the right timing when Acchan and Shigeru-san returned with a literal mountain of nesting material not three seconds later.

It might be just enough for Natsume’s nest, Nishimura decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> natsume u poor thing
> 
> Stay updated via my [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TECHNICALLY it's still the weekend here, so  
> OTL

For the most part, Takashi stayed well out of the way as Nishimura and Kitamoto bustled around his steadily growing nest. They’d moved it against the wall, since Nishimura had insisted it be permanent and Takashi didn’t want it to be in the way. Kitamoto was doing most of the heavy lifting while Nishimura nudged and twisted and tucked all the fabric into place. It all looked disturbingly complicated.

Takashi couldn’t stop rubbing his own hand, the one that had touched Nishimura. It hadn’t hurt this time. His skin was still buzzing where they’d made contact, but— well, Takashi wasn’t sure if it was the seal Hinoe had placed on him or a result of his collapse, but either way it was a welcome change.

“Done!” Nishimura announced suddenly, and Takashi returned his attention to the nest. It was _huge_ , not as big as Nishimura’s, maybe, but still larger than any of the others Takashi had seen. What was he supposed to _do_ with all of this?

“Come try it out,” Nishimura urged.

Tentatively, Takashi kneeled just outside the nest wall and ran his hands over the soft blankets. He wasn’t entirely sure what Nishimura had done to it, but his bed was now a work of art. 

Still, it wasn’t quite right.

Frowning, he tugged at a fold in the fabric in an attempt to tuck it in closer. Instead, the whole blanket slipped out into his hands.

With a yelp, Takashi dropped it as if it had burned him, and he would have stuffed it back into the wall if he hadn’t known he would only make it worse. Somehow, he’d managed to destroy Nishimura’s hard work in just a few seconds, and he spun around, an apology already at the tip of his tongue. Nishimura crouched next to Takashi and pressed the fallen blanket back into his grasp. His blinding smile hadn’t budged an inch.

“Don’t worry, it’s supposed to come out! That’s how we can rearrange our nests whenever we want. Here, I’ll show you how to weave it.”

Stunned into silence, and with his heart still beating frantically in his chest, Takashi followed mechanically as Nishimura guided his hands. It was hardly any work at all to slide the blanket back into formation just where Takashi had wanted it.

Nishimura and his magic touch stayed right at Takashi’s side as he struggled to adjust and weave small parts of his nest. He had no idea what he was doing. Bare instinct and a vague sense of what would be comfortable was all he had to go on, but if Nishimura’s continued excitement was any indication, he was at least performing passably.

Slowly, Takashi began to relax into the task. Kitamoto was sitting with his back against the wall, watching him and Nishimura work. It should’ve been uncomfortable at best, and Takashi had never done _anything_ well with others, particularly alphas, hovering over him. But instead he was calm, or… secure, maybe.

A new urge washed over him at the realization, and Takashi stuttered to a halt. Nishimura gave him a questioning look.

“I…” Takashi shook his head hard. He had to finish the nest, and it wouldn’t be even remotely acceptable to just walk over and scent Kitamoto. Nishimura, a fellow omega, was one thing. An alpha was something else entirely.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” With significant effort, Takashi locked his instincts away in the well-worn box at the back of his mind, picked up the sheet he’d been arranging, and followed Nishimura’s lead once more.

\--~~--

Satoru tried—and failed—not to watch Natsume too intently as he crept timidly around the nest he was slowly making his own. It physically _hurt_ to see Natsume like this. Satoru knew if he ever met any of the people who’d beaten Natsume down so much he couldn’t even build a nest, the gauntlet would be thrown, no questions asked.

At last, Natsume stopped making adjustments and leaned back on his heels, presumably to survey the results.

“Well?” Satoru prompted quietly.

Natsume glanced up with eyes haunted by bewilderment, and quite possibly terror.

_Give them direction_. Right. Satoru could do that.

“You should try it out,” he offered, gesturing at the nest. “Y’know, figure out if it needs any more blankets or anything.”

Natsume looked slowly between Satoru and the nest. “I don’t see how it could possibly need more blankets…”

Satoru couldn’t help it—he gave a surprised bark of laughter. He’d missed Natsume’s brand of dry, wide-eyed humor.

Natsume had jumped though, so Satoru did his best to project a sense of calm. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I promise!” He gestured again. “You still have to test this, though.”

Haltingly, Natsume stepped over the nest’s low walls and sat down in the middle. His back was stiff and straight, and his gaze fixed, but Satoru’s stupid, overemotional heart swelled at the sight of Natsume finally in a safe place he belonged. Or would belong.

“May I have permission to enter your nest?” Satoru asked. It was a lot more formal than he would usually go, but this was important.

Natsume blinked at him owlishly. “Of course?”

Not as straightforward of an answer as Satoru would’ve liked, but it might be the best he would get. Still. Given how… controlling his own parents were, this was one thing Satoru was always especially careful on. He had to try anyway.

“You sure? I might’ve helped build it a little, but it’s your space now. Letting me in is completely optional.”

There was a long minute of silence.

“Y-yes, I’m sure. I… want you to join.” Natsume stumbled over the words and his face was flushed, but his gaze never left Satoru’s own.

“Thank you,” Satoru said, still formal, because jumping for joy probably wouldn’t do Natsume any favors at the moment.

Hopping over the nest wall, Satoru settled down in the space Natsume had scooted over to offer him. He kept careful, critical inches of distance between them, and squashed the instincts that wanted nothing more than to wrap Natsume up and cuddle him for an hour or three.

“And,” Natsume said, voice almost inaudible, “Kitamoto too. I… he can come in too.”

Never had Satoru been more eager to fulfill one of Natsume’s rare requests, and he turned to call Acchan, only to find him already at the edge of the nest. Damn alphas and their enhanced senses.

The nest was just big enough for the three of them, as it turned out, as long as Acchan spooned Satoru and Natsume curled up in the hollow their bodies formed, still carefully avoiding direct contact.

Frankly, Satoru didn’t care. This was way more than he’d ever hoped to coax out of Natsume in a day, and they had all the time in the world to work on actual touch.

With a pleased sigh, Satoru snuggled back into Acchan and felt his eyelids droop. Natsume was the very picture of peace and comfort, the tension that usually kept his body hunched and stiff now gone like it had never existed. Hopefully, whenever his senses returned, Natsume wouldn’t mind Satoru’s and Acchan’s relaxed, happy pheromones staining his nest.

The last thing Satoru felt before falling asleep was the barest brush of Natsume’s fingers against his own.

\--~~--

Touko smiled a small, private smile at the sight of the three boys all curled protectively around each other, fast asleep. 

The air was saturated with soft, sugar-spun scents of comfort, and even though it still stung Touko’s heart that Takashi’s scent was missing, just seeing him here, more relaxed than he’d been in days, or maybe—heaven forbid—months, was more than enough for her.

Gently, she slid the door shut and returned to her dinner preparations. They were growing teenage boys. They were guaranteed to be ravenous when they woke.

\--~~--

It was warm. Hot, really, but not in the way fever had burned him to the core just days ago. It was more… comfortable, like the onsen he’d visited with Natori-san.

Takashi shifted a little and registered a cloud of softness below him and a steady weight over his side and head. With an effort (everything was so _cozy_ ), Takashi lifted an arm to blindly bat at the suffocating pressure on his head. It meowled. 

Well, that was one mystery solved.

Once Nyanko slipped off his face and oxygen resumed cycling to Takashi’s brain, he turned to the puzzle of the second weight. Reluctantly, he cracked open his eyelids, blinked at Nishimura’s sleep-slack face and slightly open mouth— and froze. Shifting his stare up a few inches, Takashi met Kitamoto’s, calm, clear gaze.

With a yelp, he threw himself back as far as his protesting body would allow, waking Nishimura in the process.

“Wazzgoinon?” Nishimura fumbled out, squinting sleepily into the late afternoon light. “Nassume?”

Takashi pressed up against the wall of his nest, trying to slow his heaving breaths. Right. He was home, at the Fujiwara’s, Nishimura and Kitamoto had built him a nest, he’d invited them in, and then— they’d fallen asleep?

“You okay, Natsume?” Kitamoto asked. He was sitting now, supporting a still-dazed Nishimura’s head in one arm and propping himself up with the other. “We can leave if you need. I’ll drag this sleepyhead out.”

Takashi stared blankly up at him for a moment before shaking his head violently. He knew better than to stay… _stunned_ like this.

“N-no, I— you can stay.”

“Sure.” Kitamoto eased back down. His hand was dangling over Nishimura’s side, just within Takashi’s reach. 

The inane urge to scent Kitamoto that Takashi had suppressed earlier burst from the box he’d locked it in, and he flinched with the force of it.

Kitamoto’s gaze sharpened. “Natsume?”

I’m— fine” Takashi said tightly. Why was this happening, so suddenly? He’d never wanted to scent anyone in his entire life, until Nishimura just a few hours before. And now Kitamoto too? Kitamoto was an _alpha_ , with an unusual scent maybe, but still… god, the feeling was unbearable.

Glacier-slow, Takashi reached for Kitamoto’s hand, hating himself with every inch. But before he could convince himself to stop, Kitamoto closed the distance and wrapped his fingers around Takashi’s hand. He jolted, and Kitamoto twisted his own arm until Takashi’s fingers were flush with his wrist. It was the situation with Nishimura all over again. Hesitantly, Takashi searched Kitamoto’s face for any signs of rejection and received nothing but an earnest nod in return.

Cautiously, he pressed his fingers to Kitamoto’s scent gland, closing his eyes and just absorbing the warmth of it. He couldn’t actually smell anything, of course, but the action calmed the thing in his hindbrain, and he could finally relax. 

When Takashi dared to look again, he found Nishimura watching them with his eyes crinkled in a smile. Takashi immediately snatched his hand back— though he didn’t know what the point was when Nishimura had already seen him— but Nishimura only patted him gently on the head.

“That was very sweet,” Nishimura said, his stomach letting out a snarl that ruined the effect, “but I may be literally starving. Please say Touko-san has some food?”

At the mention, Nyanko leapt back onto Takashi’s head and yowled loud enough to him to yelp and clap a hand over his ear. “Sensei!—”

“For once, your creepy cat agrees with me— Ow!”

With a sigh, Kitamoto pulled Nishimura out of the nest and safely away from Nyanko’s slashing claws. Then he held out a hand. Tentatively, Takashi took it and, with a final glance back at the new nest, followed his friends from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main pairing is TaNatsu, but the author is Not Particularly Interested in limiting affection
> 
> Updates will probably pretty sporadic from here on out, so you can hopefully check my [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/) for news!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am speed.
> 
> But also your next update will be next next weekend, so at what cost?

Atsushi reserved all his suspicions for Monday morning at school, when Sacchan had gone to his classroom and Atsushi could finally catch Tanuma alone.

Tanuma’s smile was entirely too nervous for someone who had nothing to hide.

“Oh—hey, Kitamoto.”

“Morning, Tanuma. You didn’t join us yesterday.”

It was blunter than he’d normally go for, but Atsushi had a feeling this would be a conversation that would benefit from a little directness.

“N-no, I didn’t. Sorry about that, I’m just not really Natsume’s friend, you know? And I thought it’d be better if it was just the two of you. Tell Nishimura I’m sorry for hanging up on him so fast the other day. I was just— yeah.”

Wow. Atsushi sighed. “I’ll do that, but— look. I know something happened between you and Natsume at the hospital, and I’d like to hope it was innocent and nothing, but as Natsume’s friend, it’s my job to make sure.”

“Um. Yes.” Tanuma looked to the side.

Atsushi squinted at him. “Well?”

“Please don’t laugh me out of the building. Or kill me.” Tanuma’s words came in a rush. “I think Natsume is my… true mate.”

Atsushi almost _did_ laugh, but the somber, ashamed look on Tanuma’s face stopped him just in time. “You’re serious.”

Tanuma nodded.

“That… how do you know?”

“I, uh… really don’t. It’s just a feeling I get around him, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.” Tanuma’s face pinched. “It sounds so creepy like that.”

“I mean… a little,” Atsushi allowed, because what else was he supposed to say? If it had been just about anyone else, he really might’ve dismissed them, but Tanuma didn’t seem like that kind of person. He was too much like Natsume in that respect.

“Right. Well, what are you planning to do about it? Does Natsume know?” Atsushi said at last.

Tanuma looked painfully hopeful. “You believe me?”

“Evidence does point to it,” Atsushi said wryly, “but I’m still keeping an eye on you.”

“Please, do.” Was the fervent reply. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I was hoping you and Nishimura would… help?”

“Sure. But Sacchan’s going to have a conniption, probably.”

Tanuma winced. “I really should’ve told you earlier, but I wasn’t sure, and then at the hospital didn’t seem like a great time. Oh, and I assume Natsume knows.” Tanuma pressed a hand to his heart in a gesture that Atsushi somehow read as unconscious. “There’s no way he could’ve missed this feeling.”

Atsushi considered everything he’d learned about Natsume so far; how he’d lived, how much Sacchan had had to teach him about just being an omega, how he’d ended up in the hospital. “I hope you’re right.”

\--~~-- 

There was something new wrong, Takashi was absolutely sure of it. 

Ever since Kitamoto and Nishimura had visited… no, ever since the nest had been completed and Takashi had settled into it, he’d been feeling off. It had started as a tug in the pit of his stomach that he’d thought was hunger, but even after Touko-san’s delicious tonkatsu, it hadn’t gone away. Overnight, it had rapidly evolved from a tug to an ache that went all through his chest. His heartbeat throbbed in his ears, his scent glands itched, he found himself unconsciously chasing after scents that didn’t exist, and he was so, so tired of being sick. He’d wondered aloud to Nyanko if it was the seal on his forehead, but the idea had been dismissed right away.

On Monday, Takashi had been able to ignore it, mostly, but now it was Tuesday, the symptoms had gotten worse, and he knew what he had to do.

“Touko-san?”

“Oh! Good morning, Takashi-kun,” Touko-san smiled warmly, and Takashi almost backed out right then and there.

“I… think I’m sick again.”

The smile warped into concern, and Touko-san hurried over to him.

“Does it hurt again? Do we need to go back to the hospital?”

“No, it’s different, it’s like something is pulling—” he clenched a hand in the fabric over his chest “—here.”

Slowly, Touko-san reached out to press a hand against Takashi’s forehead, giving him plenty of time to back away. He didn’t.

“…No fever, that’s good. How about this, I’ll call Mino Sensei, but we won’t go to the hospital just yet.”

A sliver of relief washed over Takashi at that, but it was too soon to relax. “Okay.”

Touko-san hurried to the phone, and Takashi sank down to one of the pillows at the low table. There was just so much _pressure_ , like his heart was trying to escape his body. Unbidden, the memory of Tanuma’s faint amber scent popped into Takashi’s head, and he blinked. Where had that come from?

“Takashi-kun,” Touko-san stuck her head back into the room, “when did your new symptoms start? Mino Sensei wants to know.”

Takashi frowned. “I… Sunday night, I think.”

Touko-san nodded and disappeared again, the low chatter resuming. She was only gone a minute longer, and when she returned, she had a strange look on her face.

“Did Tanuma-kun do anything… unusual at the hospital? Or did you feel anything unusual?”

_Tanuma?_ Tanuma had woken him up, but that was something everyone knew already. And all Takashi could remember feeling was scared. He shook his head.

“Hmm. Well, Mino Sensei said you’re cleared to go back to school tomorrow if you feel ready, and that you should spend some time with Tanuma-kun if you can.”

“But… why?” Takashi asked a little desperately. He and Tanuma… would Tanuma even want to meet with him again?

“Mino Sensei…” Touko-san seemed to come to a decision. “Sensei thinks the two of you might be true mates. I don’t want to get your hopes up since it’s only one theory, but I think you should know anyway.”

“Oh.” Takashi shuddered. Mates… there was no way, especially not with Tanuma of all people. No matter how much he’d hoped to make friends with another person who had a foot in the world of youkai. 

Takashi wasn’t entirely sure what _true_ mates were, but it didn’t sound any better.

\--~~-- 

On Wednesday morning, as Takashi was getting ready for school, Nyanko Sensei trotted up to him and took a curious sniff. 

“Your scent is coming back. Or it’s about to,” he amended.

“Really? But I still can’t smell anything…” Takashi took a cursory sniff of his own wrist gland.

“How am I supposed to know how your fragile human bodies work?” Nyanko said incredulously. “You should be careful though. It’s different now. Tastier. Don’t make more work for me by attracting losers.”

Takashi sighed. “Sure, Sensei.”

\--

At school, Takashi was greeted by Nishimura’s eager shouts and Kitamoto’s much more dignified wave. The ache and drag on his body left him even more subdued than usual for his friends’ apparently unconditional welcome, but he still caught Kitamoto’s backward glance. To the doorway. Where Tanuma was standing, a dark, watchful shadow.

The pressure in Takashi’s stomach and chest gave an odd lurch, and he stared at Tanuma, who looked so much like a youkai in that moment, who was maybe supposed to be his _mate_ —

Without stopping to think, Takashi broke away from Nishimura’s startled grasp and walked, as fast and hard as he could without actually running, past the doors and Tanuma and away before the burn in his chest could grow any stronger.

\--

Nishimura caught him after class.

“You okay, Natsume? What happened earlier?”

“Oh. I just… had a bad feeling.” Takashi rubbed at his neck, over his glands, for good measure. With any luck, Nishimura would relate it to an omega problem, not… anything else. The small youkai taunting him from outside the window wasn’t making it any easier to think. Fortunately, Nishimura seemed to buy it.

“Well, trust your instincts,” he said with a solemn nod, “but you can tell us, too. Acchan and I’ll protect you.”

Takashi managed a weak smile for him (the lies were getting harder and harder). “Thanks.”

The youkai shrieked, ear-piercingly loud and resonant with the pain in his body, and Nishimura had barely turned his back when Takashi slammed his hand against the wall, unable to bear it any longer.

With a final scream the youkai was gone, and every eye in the class was on Takashi, including Nishimura’s startled and increasingly concerned gaze.

“Sorry,” Takashi mumbled. “There was a bug.”

It was a long time before Nishimura left and the final pair of eyes drifted away to more interesting things.

(Harder and harder)

\--

With Nishimura once again occupied by other friends and Tanuma in a different part of the building, Takashi tried to make his escape the moment classes let out. Kitamoto caught him in the hall.

“Was it Tanuma?”

Takashi blinked at Kitamoto’s sudden, inexplicable question.

“When you… left, earlier. Did you leave because Tanuma was there?”

A familiar cold pit hollowed itself out around the pressure in his stomach. Whenever it wasn’t youkai, it was Takashi’s own useless instincts causing trouble, and Kitamoto, the _alpha_ , was clearly unhappy. But still, Kitamoto was… was kind, and he’d _promised_ —

“…Yes.”

Kitamoto’s nod was slow. Thoughtful, maybe. Takashi breathed a little easier.

“Why?”

_Because I’m scared. Because I can’t be his… mate_. “It hurts,” Takashi said, which wasn’t much of an explanation, but it didn’t really matter now. He pressed palm to his sternum, wishing he could just rip the ache out. “And… I don’t think he likes me much anyway.”

Kitamoto sucked in a sharp breath. “That… you know, I don’t think you could be more wrong.”

“What?” Takashi tried not to frown at him, and took a tiny, hopefully unnoticeable step backwards.

There was a moment of silence. Takashi shuffled his feet. “Can I go now?”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry Natsume. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kitamoto disappeared back into the school, and Takashi’s heart was in his mouth. He’d tried to avoid even hinting at the possibility of mates, but somehow Kitamoto knew.

\--

“Welcome back!” Touko-san called, as reliable and soothing as always when Takashi stepped into the house. “How was school?”

That was something she always asked too, but they both knew it was different today. Takashi had done anything _but_ talk to Tanuma. 

“It was good.” He couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

It was a painfully obvious lie, even to Takashi’s ears, but Touko-san didn’t press.

“Are your symptoms any worse?”

“…No.” And they weren’t. They only seemed to shift depending on where he was. How… close he was.

“Why don’t you go and rest until dinner? And tell us if it does get worse.” Touko-san fretted gently, feeling his forehead again and brushing over his wrist gland.

Upstairs, Takashi’s nest was soft and warm and still impossibly comfortable, enough to cancel out the ache and pull. He slept.

\--

A dozen youkai crowded around Takashi, chattering and rowdy.

“It’s a _bond_ ,” Hinoe had announced with great fervor.

“You’re lucky your scent hasn’t returned and the bond is still new,” she informed him, “or else you’d have been eaten already. Open bonds are _delicious_.”

After a moment, Hinoe added, “And whoever is on the other end will be in danger too. If you care about whoever it is, I would close the bond soon.”

Somehow, there was a bottle of sake open in his room and Nyanko was on Takashi’s lap, hissing and snapping at anyone who tried to touch his “tasty snack.”

It wasn’t often that Takashi got so morbid, but he wondered what it would’ve been like to never have been born.

\--~~--

Aside from a few incidents of Natsume’s continually disconcerting behavior, it had been a pretty normal couple of days. So when Acchan approached Satoru on Thursday morning to start the day off with a “Natsume emergency, level five, code red,” he had to take a whole minute to try and figure out what could possibly be wrong now.

(It was Natsume of course, why did he even bother asking that anymore?)

“Well?” Satoru prompted as he sat down to another curiously Natsume-and-Tanuma-free rooftop lunch.

Acchan regarded him for a moment. “I’d like to start by saying it’s not even remotely Natsume’s fault this time. Maybe.”

Satoru waved his chopsticks absently in the air. “It’s always like that. Natsume’s just a trouble magnet 24/7. Now tell me.”

Acchan sighed. “Tanuma is Natsume’s true mate.”

Staring into Acchan’s entirely serious eyes, Satoru patiently waited for his brain to reboot. They were _very_ nice eyes, when he took the time to look.

A few seconds passed.

“Ready now?” Acchan asked dryly.

“Uh, right, so, did you already talk to Tanuma then? And Natsume?”

Acchan gave him a Look, so he decided to take that as a yes.

“Okay, so… they know, then. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Well,” Acchan said with as blank a face as Satoru had ever seen, “it probably would be, if either of them _actually_ knew what they’re about to get into.”

“…You’re kidding me.”

“I wish I was.”

“You said you talked to them!”

“Yes, but Tanuma has the social ability of… oh, a walnut, and Natsume has had a grand total of zero good experiences, period. So, you know.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Satoru groaned. He received a gentle pat on the back. “Now what?”

“That’s why we’re here, hopefully.”

Satoru turned the problem over in his head a few times. “Okay, I see why we’re not outright telling Natsume, because he’s more likely to run away—or worse—than let himself get attached to anyone. But even if Tanuma is a walnut, I don’t see why we can’t just… talk to _him_ more.”

Acchan buried his face in his hands, and his next words were muffled. “See, I was going to do that, but then I got paranoid about Tanuma directly approaching Natsume about it even if we ask him not to, because he’s a good guy who probably thinks communication is important.”

Defeated, Satoru threw his hands in the air. “How is this our life?”

Acchan shook his head. “Let’s give them… oh, until Saturday to. Uh. Figure it out themselves. Then, I guess we intervene.”

In Satoru’s humble opinion, it was not just improbable, but in fact scientifically impossible that Tanuma and _Natsume_ would be able to work things out on their own. And judging by Acchan’s tone, Satoru was pretty sure they were on the same page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~these boys just do not want to talk about their _feelings_~~


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, trash fam!  
> College has been easier than expected, so y'all will be getting a new chap next weekend as well :D

With the entire school in a frenzy of preparation for final exams, Takashi found he was able to dodge Tanuma—and even Kitamoto and Nishimura—all the way through to the weekend. It was both blessing and curse whenever the tug in his gut strengthened to let him know Tanuma was close.

Touko-san surely knew that he still hadn’t spoken with Tanuma, but, possibly in the face of Takashi’s endless studying and sleeping, had so far said nothing about it.

And speaking of sleep, he was getting a lot more of it now. The nest had become his refuge, which Takashi supposed was the point, and he wished he’d obeyed Nishimura and Kitamoto sooner. Nearly all the time he wasn’t spending eating or studying he spent curled up in the nest, often with a warm, snoring Nyanko Sensei who would periodically wake to comment on Takashi’s (returning, tasty) scent, or how hungry he was, or how he wanted sake. (Takashi usually ignored the last two.)

On Friday night, after dinner was over and all the chores were done, Takashi was able to hold still long enough to allow Shigeru-san to briefly scent his wrist, which, as far as Takashi was concerned, was a rousing success. Shigeru-san, however, had spent most of the moment staring uncomfortably deep into Takashi’s eyes, and his touch hadn’t lingered. So Takashi was still doing something wrong.

When he returned to his room, he found Chobihige sitting comfortably on the floor beneath the newly-open window.

“Natsume-dono!” Chobihige exclaimed without preface. “There’s a new exorcist wandering about, hunting us indiscriminately! Drawing circles that make us _seen_. Please, you must kill them before they can kill us!”

Takashi resigned himself to another sleepless night.

\--

The sun had barely poked its head over the mountains when Takashi was nudged (punched, really) awake by an unusually concerned Nyanko Sensei. At least, Takashi was pretty sure it was concern. It was hard to tell with all the posturing and offended sniffing.

Eventually, he gathered that Sensei had gone out to investigate the mysterious circle spells, found them to be legitimately powerful and dangerous to the Yatsuhara populace, and decided that Takashi should be the one to help fix the problem.

Luckily for him, Shigeru-san was up early that day, something about a meeting in a neighboring town, so Takashi didn’t have to sneak out of the house and disappoint Touko-san again. He wasn’t sure Shigeru-san really bought his excuse for going on a walk at the crack of dawn, though.

As he stepped outside, Takashi briefly wondered if he should leave a note in case Nishimura and Kitamoto showed up. But with Takashi healed and the nest long built, what other reason did they have to come over to his house?

(And, if he was being honest, Takashi would do anything to avoid Kitamoto and whatever he knew about Takashi’s mate.)

In the name of speed and returning to bed as soon as possible, Nyanko flew Takashi over to the nearest field that was marked by circles. He spent a moment studying the unfamiliar symbols and lines before drawing a finger through the dirt to break the spell.

A sudden growl from Nyanko made Takashi startle. Following Nyanko’s gaze led him to the slight figure of a girl dressed in dark colors, with a stick in one hand and a hat pulled down over her eyes.

Slowly, Takashi stood, and the girl’s face snapped towards him.

“Hello?” Takashi called, hesitant.

She didn’t answer, but she did tilt the hat back until Takashi could meet her eyes. They were… scared, maybe, and shadowed, but not dangerous. Not _alpha_.

“I’m Natsume Takashi. It’s nice to meet you.” Still, she didn’t speak, and Takashi fumbled for more to say. “Did you draw all these?”

She flinched, but nodded.

“Why?”

There was another long moment of silence—maybe she couldn’t speak?—during which Takashi felt the air shift as Nyanko settled his considerable bulk at Takashi’s back.

“I’m… looking for something,” she said at last, “something really important. But please, don’t talk to me anymore. It’s too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Takashi repeated. He glanced up at Nyanko Sensei.

“She can’t leave these circles here. It’ll rile up the ayakashi and make more trouble for the rest of us.” He rumbled.

Takashi frowned and turned back to the girl. “You really can’t talk?”

She nodded vehemently.

“Well… it’s not a good idea to keep drawing these circles either. Is there another way you could explain? On paper, maybe?”

She squinted at him for a while before finally nodding and beckoning him toward the road.

If this girl was making spells to see youkai, presumably looking for a youkai as well, then there was a good chance she would take youkai as an explanation if Takashi had to do something that would normally scare off normal people. Still, he tried to be as subtle as possible when he placed a hand low on Nyanko’s leg and followed.

The strange, weighted silence prevailed, though Takashi kept catching her glances up at him from beneath her cap. They passed into a more forested bit of road, where Takashi knew several temples and shrines were tucked away, and as they walked over a bridge and past a long stone stair, the ache in Takashi’s chest gave a sudden _yank_ , so hard that he stumbled over nothing and nearly hit the ground.

“Natsume-kun!—”

There was a hand around his arm, holding him upright as Takashi hunched against the pain and tried to catch his breath. Then the hand snatched back, and he looked up to meet the girl’s horrified eyes. 

“Oh, god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Her voice was muffled behind the hands she had pressed over her mouth. “I said your name.”

“What… what does that mean?” Takashi asked, casting a glare at Nyanko’s snorts of laughter.

“I—oh no, I guess it really doesn’t matter anymore, huh?” The girl mumbled as she twisted her fingers together. “Um. I’m Taki Tooru. And you’re… you can see youkai, right?”

Takashi stiffened. “How do know that?” The pressure in his chest gave another sharp tug toward the stairs, and he shook his head. “No, let’s go somewhere else first.”

And for the first time in a while, he grabbed someone’s wrist without even thinking, and ran, as far and fast as he could. Anything to get away from that terrible pull.

\--~~--

Taki-san explained the whole story to him—her grandfather’s enthusiasm for youkai, her own experimentation with the spell circle, the terrible youkai who’d cursed her and the last 13 people whose names she’d said—and how she’d kept silent for nearly a year, sacrificing friends and relationships and her school life to keep people safe.

As she spoke, she words poured out like a river, desperate to Takashi’s ears—so he listened and asked his questions and listened again until she was done.

“I’m sorry, Natsume-kun, I didn’t mean to drag you into this.” Taki-san met his eyes, steady and forceful. “But I’m going to win. I promise.”

“I’ll help you.” The words were out of Takashi’s mouth without hesitation. Above his head, Nyanko heaved a massive sigh, which Takashi firmly ignored.

“Oh! I… thank you.” Though her gaze was still clear, she looked suspiciously close to tears. “Once this is over, I’ll make it up to you. Somehow.”

Takashi shook his head. “You… you don’t need to do that.”

Taki-san’s lips thinned for a moment, but she didn’t argue. “Well. As fellow betas at least, let’s get along.” She held out a hand. “To our victory.”

Slowly, Takashi shook her hand, almost corrected her—but if he didn’t have a scent, did it really matter?

\--

As it turned out, Taki-san was a very… freeing person to talk to. Now that she did talk, anyway.

She led Takashi to her grandfather’s library, eagerly showing off her favorite pieces and asking endless questions about youkai. Most of the time, he didn’t know the answer. When it came to technical, exorcist-like things, it seemed she knew far more than what Takashi’s limited experience in running for his life offered. Instead, Takashi mostly kept an eye on the small, curious youkai that flitted over the shelves to watch them.

When he paused to watch a group of the smallest youkai form a dancing circle, Taki-san was excited, not disturbed, and even though Takashi couldn’t convince any of the youkai to step onto the seeing spell, he felt light. Taki-san couldn’t _see_ but she _knew_ , and that was enough.

Not once did she mention Takashi’s dynamic or his lack of scent. It was probably because she thought he was a beta, but Takashi had never been able to fade into the background quite like this before, and he silently wished his scent never returned.

“Ohhhhh my god, a kitty!” Taki-san screamed when Nyanko Sensei finally returned to his lucky cat form and made an appearance. “Oh he’s so _adorable_!”

Takashi was baffled, but he’d never seen Sensei look quite so smug and horrified at the same time.

When they left, Taki-san walked them to the door. “Bye kitty! Bye Natsume-kun! I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waved enthusiastically. “Stay safe!”

Takashi waved back. Maybe it wasn’t possible to be friends with Tanuma, but it didn’t matter anymore. Just one person to share his secret with was enough for him.

\--~~-- 

“It’s like he has a sixth sense for us trying to help him, I swear.” Satoru kicked a pebble and watched as it scuttled off the road and plunged helplessly into the ditch beside. For some reason, he empathized with it.

“Touko-san said he was out for a walk, so it’ll probably be fine if we just come back later.” Acchan sighed.

“Yeah, and she also said he’d been out since five in the morning. Who goes for a _walk_ that early? Nobody. _My_ sixth sense for knowing when Natsume is in trouble is tingling.”

“Just because _you_ can never get up for school on time—”

“Tingling, Acchan. _Tingling_.”

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. The summer sun was just beginning to build to its full intensity, and Satoru was sweating with the heat of it, but he slipped his hand into Acchan’s anyway.

“I’m worried about him.”

“I know.”

\--

They went back later, but Natsume still wasn’t home.

\--

Acchan was occupied with some new club activity, so on Sunday, Satoru went to the Fujiwara's house alone. Touko-san’s worried face met him at the door.

“I’m sorry Nishimura-kun, Takashi-kun went out again.”

“Again?” He frowned.

“I told him you would probably be coming over, but he said he had to help a new friend.” Touko-san twisted her hands together. “I told him he could go, but still…”

“I could… look for him, if you’d like?” Satoru said dubiously. How exactly he’d find Natsume he wasn’t sure, but if it was important, he’d try anyway.

“No, no, I’ll manage.” Touko-san laughed, a tight, fluttery sound that echoed the feeling in Satoru’s own chest. “You can still come in for tea, if you’d like?”

That did sound nice, but… “Thanks, but I should probably go home and study for my finals if Natsume’s not here.”

“Of course. I’ll call your home if Takashi-kun does turn up early. Good luck on your studies!”

\--

It wasn’t until Monday morning that Satoru finally caught a glimpse of Natsume as they hurried to their respective exam rooms, and when he did, he nearly froze in the middle of the busy hall. Natsume looked _awful_. The eyebags that had been fading over the past week had taken up vicious new residence on his face, his wrist was liberally wrapped in bandages, and his shoulders were stiff as his eyes darted over every person in the hall.

Satoru could barely focus on the math exam that was probably supposed to decide his future.

\--

He met a harried-looking Acchan outside during their outrageously short lunch break.

“Have you seen Natsume yet?” Was the first thing out of Satoru’s mouth.

Acchan dropped his head into his hands. “No. But have you seen Tanuma?”

“Nope.” He popped the “p” between his lips. “Is it… that bad?”

Acchan didn’t answer, but the waves of bitter anxiety that roiled off his skin was answer enough. Satoru sat down and pressed their shoulders together, nudging his head into the crook of Acchan’s neck. He wasn’t sure he’d ever smelled this much stress from one person before.

“And Natsume?”

Satoru could only sigh. “I think my sixth sense was right.”

\--

The second day of exams passed in the same blur of worry for Natsume and academic mental acrobatics as the day before. Satoru was ready to tear his hair out over both.

Somehow Natsume had reengaged stealth mode, and no matter how hard he looked or how many people he asked, Satoru couldn’t find his friend all day. The moment his last exam finished, he didn’t even bother to celebrate the official start of summer vacation, just stormed out the door and down the hall just in time to see Natsume—was he _running_?—vanishing down the road.

Satoru slammed his head against the nearest wall, instantly regretted it when red-hot pain shot through his skull, and stomped away in search of Acchan.

\--~~--

Everything was worse now. With school over for the year and home also occupied by the Fujiwaras, whom he didn’t want to disappoint by running off without warning, Takashi no longer had reliable ways to keep avoiding … certain people.

There might as well have been a heavy chain attached to his chest, pulled taut in whatever direction Tanuma happened to be in. At home, the distance made it bearable. At school, Takashi had barely been able keep standing. Dully, he wondered if he’d even gotten close to passing his exams.

The black paint of Hinoe’s seal was slowly flaking off his forehead, which Nyanko informed him meant his body was finally healed enough to keep itself stable. Any day now, apparently, his senses and scent would finally return. Takashi dreaded it. Except for the ache of the open bond, (and he’d been forced to acknowledge it, because what else could it be?) his body had been… quiet, for lack of a better word, and for the first time ever, he’d started feeling comfortable in his own skin.

Of course it wasn’t going to last.

Long days spent roaming the fields and Yatsuhara forests, dodging and interrogating youkai in equal measure had left him exhausted, and he’d kept even later hours studying at home. At least that was over now.

Hinoe’s and Nyanko’s warnings of his apparent deliciousness were proving true as well, and even though Nyanko Sensei was at Takashi’s side almost all the time now, youkai attacks still slipped through. The minutes he’d spent on Sunday night, hunching in front of Touko-san as she wrapped his sprained wrist and smeared ointment on his cuts and scrapes, barely daring to breathe in the aching silence? Not an experience he wanted to repeat.

Really, Takashi wanted to cry. Most of the youkai didn’t even want him for the book or Reiko anymore. They just wanted _him_.

\--

That night, Takashi’s dreams were full of dark caves that echoed with cruel laughter, and a stitched-up mouth that grinned hungrily down at him. There was no escape, and suddenly he felt the _prick… prick… prick…_ of a needle weaving between his _own_ lips—

Takashi shot up and awake with a muffled scream. Tucked into his side, Nyanko made a disgruntled noise, and Takashi buried a shaking hand in his short fur, praying that he hadn’t woken the Fujiwaras again.

Everything was worse now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damnit Natsume, pls just _talk_ about your _feelings_  
>  If unusual delays occur, I'll be notifying you via my [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/).


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early chapter what
> 
> I got a lot of writing done and I'm ready to get to the _really_ good stuff, so here take this.

Uneasiness clung to Takashi’s skin like old cobwebs. He knew the youkai of the previous night’s dream was the one he and Taki-san were currently chasing, and long, painful experience told Takashi that it had finally found him.

By Taki-san’s insistence, Takashi would only join her in the continuing youkai search in the afternoon.

“You’ve just finished your exams!” She’d scolded him. “Take a break. I don’t want to see your face until tomorrow evening at _least_.”

He’d tried to argue. But even with a mere four days left on the clock, she hadn’t been swayed. So here he was. Sitting down to a celebratory breakfast with Touko and Shigeru-san, while Nyanko Sensei begged tidbits from his place in Takashi’s lap.

“Congratulations on finishing the school year, Takashi-kun! I know it’s been a lot, between moving in with us and your time spent in recovery. I’m proud of you.” Touko-san said it so _casually_ , never pausing in loading Takashi’s plate with fried fish. Her smile was wide.

“Thank you,” Takashi mumbled. If he looked up to meet Touko-san’s warm gaze, he was pretty sure his heart would explode.

“What are you planning to do this summer?” Shigeru-san inquired with a smile of his own.

_Avoid Tanuma. Avoid Kitamoto. Hunt down and possibly destroy an angry youkai before it could destroy him. Not get sick again._

What came out of Takashi’s mouth instead was, “I guess… explore Hitoyoshi more.”

“Of course!” Touko-san said brightly. “Shigeru-san has a lot of connections to local business. Though, I’m sure you’d prefer not to be with us old people. Your friends can probably show you around just as well.” She laughed.

Takashi kept his head down.

After breakfast was over and Shigeru-san was off to work, Touko-san pulled Takashi aside for a moment. 

“How have your symptoms been? Mino Sensei called yesterday to check in on you, the wonderful man.”

“They’ve been… getting better,” Takashi hedged. And technically it was true. The ache and itch had started fading away into the constant pull in his chest, and _that_ was perfectly manageable.

Slowly, gently, Touko-san clasped Takashi’s hand in both of hers. 

“I’m glad to hear it. Just remember, you can tell us anything.” She gave him a quick smile and squeezed his hand once before letting go and returning to the hall.

There was a beat.

“Not that I care, but all you have to do to close the bond is to acknowledge that brat. You don’t even have to spend time with him.” Nyanko Sensei said with a pointed look.

Closing a bond… the thing in his chest thrummed eagerly at the thought, and Takashi shuddered. Old alpha Voices echoed in his ears.

…Taki-san wouldn’t have to know he was out searching if he stayed on the other side of Yatsuhara, right?

\--~~--

If they couldn’t get to Natsume, Atsushi reasoned, then they would just have to start with Tanuma.

Which was why he and Sacchan were trudging along the road to Tanuma’s house, even though normally on the day after finals, neither of them would’ve left their beds to do much more than eat and play video games. Natsume continued to push them to new heights.

In stark contrast to Natsume’s house, Tanuma appeared at the door a mere second after Atsushi knocked on it.

“Kitamoto? Nishimura?” Tanuma blinked at them, his scent sharp with surprise.

“’Sup,” Sacchan greeted.

Tanuma led them down the hall and into a room that opened out to a deck and slightly unkempt yard. For a brief moment, Tanuma fixed a familiar, distant gaze onto a spot on the ceiling before carrying on as though nothing had happened. Atsushi narrowed his eyes.

“So… I guess you’re here about Natsume,” Tanuma said nervously.

“Pretty much,” Atsushi agreed. “I don’t suppose you’ve been able to talk to him yet?”

Tanuma’s amber scent soured so fast Atsushi got whiplash. “No. I can sort of feel where he is, in here”—he tapped his chest— “but Natsume keeps avoiding me, and I don’t want to scare him by hunting him down like that.”

“That’s probably a good call,” Atsushi sighed.

“I was doing some reading, uh, on the side, you know,” Sacchan started, uncharacteristically hesitant, “and apparently true mates aren’t really supposed to be… doing this?”

Atsushi raised a go-on eyebrow.

“Well, there aren’t many cases, obviously, because most true mates haven’t had horrible childhoods that make them not want to mate—”

For Tanuma’s sake, Atsushi pretended not to see the wince.

“—but because their bodies want to be together, true mates who force themselves apart seem to get weaker. It’s not like you’ll die or anything!” Sacchan added hastily, presumably at the look of horror on Tanuma’s face. “Just. You’ll have a hard time if you stay apart for too long.”

“…And how much longer do Tanuma and Natsume have?” Atsushi asked slowly.

“I really don’t know. It’s been a couple of weeks now, so you’re probably already feeling the effects, even if you haven’t noticed. Honestly, it really, really makes me want to punch _someone_ in Natsume’s past, because normally, true mate bonds are the coolest thing. You make each other stronger when you’re together, literally, and you heal faster, and you get, like, telepathy and stuff. Depends on the pair.” Sacchan sounded almost wistful.

“Oh, that is cool.” Tanuma looked down at his hands. “But… how do I help Natsume with the mate thing without hurting him more?”

Tanuma looked and smelled genuinely distressed, and it would’ve been sort of sweet if the situation wasn’t so dire.

“The first thing will be to actually get a hold of Natsume,” Atsushi said dryly. “And when we do, hopefully we can convince him to spend at least a little time with you, if only to stave off the separation effects— sorry Tanuma. If it helps, I don’t think it’s personal.”

Tanuma only sighed. “I understand. I’ll have to wait for Natsume to tell me the rest himself, but I think between what you guys told me and what happened at the hospital, I’ve… pieced together enough.”

“Well, he’d better be resting now, so how about we try tomorrow?” Sacchan suggested. “Unless he’s on another ‘walk’, there’s no reason he wouldn’t be at home right after exams.”

“I mean… we’re not at home,” Atsushi pointed out, “but I hope he’s letting himself relax for a second too.”

He caught Sacchan’s eye, and they shared a look of mutual doubt.

“Oh—" Tanuma gasped, and Atsushi’s attention shot over in time to see him hunch over, fingers digging into his temples as his scent turned sharp and rotten with pain.

“Tanuma?!” Sacchan yelped.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Atsushi hesitantly kneeled next to Tanuma and placed a hand on his back. He wasn’t a normal alpha, and Tanuma had never shown aggression to any dynamic, so he was pretty sure it was okay to get into Tanuma’s personal space a little; but it never hurt to be cautious.

“Whoa.” Tanuma brought his head up to squint at them, but flinched back to down with a hiss. His scent was quickly shifting from the tang of pain to ashy fear.

The sugar sweetness of Sacchan’s calming pheromones hit Atsushi’s nose as he crept closer as well.

“Tanuma?” Atsushi asked again, quieter.

“Ow. Um. I’m okay, I think.” Tanuma glanced up at him apologetically, something wild in his eyes. “The headaches just happen sometimes.” He scented the air a little as Atsushi gently helped him lie down flat. “Oh, thanks, Nishimura. That’s nice.”

They all waited in silence for a minute or so, until the creases of pain in Tanuma’s face finally smoothed out.

“You good?” Nishimura asked.

“Yeah. I’m probably going to… lie down or something, though.”

Atsushi narrowed his eyes a little at Tanuma’s sudden fidgeting, but dismissed it. If he’d suddenly had a headache breakdown in front of friends, he’d want to get away too.

“Of course. We’ll see you tomorrow for Mission Natsume, then?”

“I’ll be there. Thanks guys.” Tanuma waved from his place still on the floor.

Atsushi and Sacchan showed themselves out.

“Whew,” Sacchan said cheerily after they’d descended the temple steps and were on their way home. “So that went pretty well, huh?”

\--~~--

It was so, so dark. 

Takashi whimpered when he tried to roll over; when his head throbbed sharply and his clothes clung damply to his skin. Peering desperately into the absolute black revealed nothing.

“N-Nyanko Sensei?” He called shakily. No response. He was alone, then.

Slowly, Takashi pulled his feet under him, and tried to take a step forward— only to be jerked back by the ankle. Blindly fumbling down his leg brought him to a thick, rough piece of rope looped tightly just above his ankle bone that trailed farther back into… wherever he was.

Following the rope eventually led Takashi to a stake of some sort, buried immovably into the rock. The realization was harsh: he was well and truly trapped. The youkai must’ve been waiting for him, because it had taken Takashi by surprise in one of the few moments Sensei had wandered out of sight. He hadn’t gotten a good look at it, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was the stitch-mouthed youkai he and Taki-san were supposed to be chasing.

Besides Nyanko Sensei, no one would know to look for Takashi. He hadn’t even told Taki-san that he’d gone out on the search. Then again, it wasn’t as though anyone but Sensei would be _able_ to find him right now.

Takashi huddled against the rocky wall of what he assumed was a cave and took the rope into his hands, picking restlessly at the sharp fibers. There was nothing to do but wait.

\--~~--

It was muscle memory by now, dragging her stick through the dirt to form those clean (dangerous) lines. Tooru paused to squint into the high, bright sunlight. Natsume-kun would probably arrive soon, no matter how much she wished he would just take a day to _rest_.

He’d been looking progressively worse as the days passed, she swore it. Tired had become exhausted, pale skin had become pallid, and rare smatterings of conversation had become near-total silence. When they’d first met, Natsume-kun had been willing enough to tell her about the youkai he saw as they went about their task, even dragging friendly ones into the spell circles for her to see. As the days had passed though, he’d become more… focused. Maybe it was the sickness (and Natsume-kun _was_ sick, even if he refused to admit it) or maybe it was the looming deadline for their lives, but unless the youkai in question was attacking, he barely seemed to react at all. Or maybe there was just a sudden lack of friendly youkai to see, but Tooru doubted that.

…Somehow, she got the impression Natsume-kun was sick a lot.

Still, no matter how much she hated, from the bottom of her soul, to drag Natsume-kun into her problems, she _needed_ the help.

A jingling bell and rustling grass caught her attention and she turned to see Nyanko darting across the field toward her.

“Kitty!” Tooru gasped, arms already outstretched to snatch the adorable little fluffball up. But he dodged her attempt with ease and fixed her with such a serious look that she froze.

“You remember how to perform that tracking spell you showed us at your home? The one with the hair?” Nyanko barked.

“What— yes, but—”

He didn’t wait for her to finish. “I lost Natsume and other youkai are too scared to talk. You’re coming with me.”

And without further ado he vanished. Tooru blinked, but that was all she had time to do before something yanked her up by the back of her jacket and she was swung screaming onto what must’ve been a transformed Nyanko’s back.

She clung on for dear life as wind rushed past her face and the ground fell away. How did Natsume-kun do this every time?!

\--

They flew clear over Hitoyoshi and Tooru was finally shaken off Nyanko’s back beside a cluster of bushes just inside the forest boundaries. Her legs felt like cooked noodles when she stood, and her knees wouldn’t stop trembling.

“Let’s, uh, never do that again please?” Tooru begged the empty air.

After a moment, lucky cat Nyanko poofed back into existence. 

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding even remotely sorry, but Tooru figured that was about as good as she was going to get.

“Natsume’s hair is here,” Nyanko said, jabbing his paw into a very specific spot on the ground.

Tooru crouched down at his side and squinted at the dirt. Sure enough, there was a faint, shining filament, and she pinched it between index and thumb to hold it up to the light.

“How…” she started, but gave up. Nyanko probably had some magical youkai senses, and Natsume-kun’s scent wasn’t _strong_ , at least to her beta nose, but it was distinct.

Actually, now that she thought about it, his scent had been becoming clearer just as fast as his body had been declining. Was it possible that Natsume-kun was…? But no, she’d referred to him as a beta several times now, and he’d never said anything to contradict her.

Tooru shook herself out of her musings. Carefully, she brushed aside some leaf rubbish to scratch the right circle into the ground. Natsume-kun’s hair went in the middle, and Tooru paused. “I need a drop of blood, too, but I don’t have a—”

Nyanko gave her an annoyed grunt before lashing out with one precise swipe across the back of her hand. Tooru yelped, but the damage was already done. Even his cuteness couldn’t save him from the scowl she leveled at him the entire time she let the blood drip from her knuckles and onto the dirt.

From there, it was easy enough to clap her hands together and recite the short chant. Tooru watched with no small amount of awe as the circle glowed white and the bit of hair burst into a tiny, golden orb. She’d never actually tried that spell before.

The floating orb zipped off toward the mountains at a considerable pace and Nyanko sprinted after it without a moment of hesitation. Tooru paused only long enough to kick a foot through the spell lines before running after both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dw y'all should still be getting the regular weekend chap as well, but in case that changes, here's my [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)  
> :D


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, dumpster fam >.>  
> This chapter fought me so hard.
> 
> TW: Effectively torture, and the bad touch youkai from Taki's introductory episodes (nothing sexual)  
> I made some changes to the stitch youkai and its effects for my plot, and also bc Natsume needed to hurt _more_

The slow, rumbling tread of footsteps shook Takashi from his listless haze. He scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over the rope that tied him down, and finally braced himself against the wall, holding his breath. He couldn’t see; had nothing he could use as a weapon if whatever this was turned out to be hostile.

The floor trembled, and a sliver of light appeared in the distance, a sliver that grew wider and brighter with every second, until Takashi could make out the rock being pushed away from the cave entrance— and the looming, stitch-mouthed youkai who was doing the pushing.

There was a rush of air as the youkai inhaled deeply. “Ahh, you smell _delicious_. I’ve never had such a good Number One.”

It sounded _gleeful_ , and Takashi shuddered, trying to press himself farther back into the rock.

It crawled toward him almost lazily. They both knew Takashi wasn’t getting away any time soon.

“I’m going to enjoy this _very_ much,” the youkai laughed. The stitches between his lips stretched grotesquely as he did so. “So much power… a sweet scent… an open bond… I can’t believe I’m the first to get a taste of you.”

And before Takashi could react, it snatched him up and _licked_ over his face, his eyes, and Takashi gasped with the stinging pain of it—

“Are you… planning to eat me?” He couldn’t stop his voice from shaking. The youkai’s clawed hand was pinning him to the wall, and a droplet of—Takashi didn’t even want to think about it— slipped off his chin and landed with a soft _plop_ on the stone below. He couldn’t move.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, absolutely. But not… just yet.” The youkai looked over its shoulder to the entrance. “I like to play with my food before I eat it. So much more flavor that way, you know? And I think I’d like the other half of your bond as well. There’s no way I would pass up two for the price of one!”

Takashi froze. “No. No, get off!” He squirmed hard, but the grip was too tight.

The youkai’s smile grew until it was practically splitting its face in half. If Takashi could’ve cringed back any farther, he would’ve.

Without ceremony, the youkai dropped him, and Takashi hit the ground hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. He remained there until his breathing finally steadied again and the rock had been rolled back into place.

Slowly, he picked himself up off the ground. Struggled to prop himself up on his elbows, then roll over to sitting. One foot underneath, then the other. Kept his head steady to stave off the dizziness, ignored the prickling of his skin. Familiar motions.

It was stupid to be comparing horrible monsters like this one to humans, to _alphas_ , but his brain wasn’t cooperating.

Takashi had no idea how much time had passed since he’d been kidnapped, but surely Nyanko Sensei was looking for him by now? In his chest, the steady pull of the bond was slowly becoming more frantic, as if in warning. But there was nothing Takashi could do. He prayed that Tanuma was at home, surrounded by the purified temple grounds and ways to protect himself.

Takashi’s eyes gave a sharp sting of protest, and he gingerly let them slip shut. He was so tired all of a sudden, enough that he couldn’t even muster up the strength to wipe his face. The licking almost certainly hadn’t been just disgusting. How long would it be before he’d know what the youkai had done to him?

\--~~--

Kaname didn’t slow in his dead run through Yatsuhara, but he was beginning to think Nishimura had been correct in his assessment of the effects of Kaname’s unbonded status. Sickness sometimes made him weak, but this was an entirely new exhaustion, with only the drag in his chest forcing him on. He hoped he was getting closer.

The claws that had dug into the bond had eased up enough for him to move, but gripped tighter every now and then, as if to remind him that somewhere, Natsume was still in trouble. And given the sharp, lingering ache in his head, it had to be youkai trouble.

As Kaname plunged farther into the forest, deeper than he’d ever been before, a sliver of hesitation made its way into his steps. There were still several hours until dark, but it was all too easy to get lost in forests. Maybe he should’ve brought Nishimura and Kitamoto with him, no matter the consequences later. And what on earth was Natsume doing so far into Yatsuhara anyway?

A streak of white accompanied by a faint jingling sound darted between the trees just in front of him, and he stuttered to a halt. Had that been a… cat?

A moment later, new crunching noises met Kaname’s ears and a girl burst into view. Her face was red with exertion, and there were thin smears of dirt and blood on her skin. Her scent was the soft dustiness of old paper. A beta, then.

“Oh!” She hesitated when she saw him, but with an anxious glance after the maybe-cat, she started running again. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t stop,” She called over her shoulder.

“Wait— where are you going?” Kaname yelled.

“To find a friend!”

A strange cat who was apparently leading a search. A girl he didn’t know, but who had a familiar glint in her eye. A frantic run through the depths of a forest that no one ever went into. The insistent tug of the bond. Kaname made up his mind. 

He took off after the girl.

It turned out that even though Kaname was no slouch at running, the girl was fast and the cat was faster. He kept on their trail mostly by following the crashing sounds of branches and footsteps over leaves.

A fresh stab of pain through the bond made Kaname stumble, but at least he didn’t collapse this time. He leaned against a nearby tree for a few seconds, just until stopped feeling as though his legs would give out from under him.

Wherever he was, Natsume was still hurting. Kaname couldn’t give up yet.

\--

Eventually, Kaname managed to catch up when the girl and cat at last stopped in a clearing. Both were methodically circling around every tree trunk that ringed the area with pinched expressions and focused eyes. It looked extraordinarily odd on the cat, and Kaname decided right then and there that it was somehow actually a youkai he could see without help.

He wasn’t exactly hiding, but he also wasn’t sure if he’d be a welcome interruption. Especially if they were doing something youkai related. Kaname’s attention caught on a flicker of movement, and he squinted— a ball of golden light was jittering midair at the center of the clearing, so small that if he hadn’t been looking for something suspicious, he might not have noticed it at all. 

Definitely youkai related.

“Um… excuse me,” Kaname called hesitantly. “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a guy named Natsume, would you?”

The cat didn’t pause, but the girl spun around instantly. “You know Natsume?”

“I’m Tanuma, his friend from school. Sort of. Maybe his…” Kaname squirmed a little. It was still so uncomfortable saying it aloud. “Maybe his mate.”

Her eyes went round. “Natsume’s _mate_? Oh. Wow. I was wrong, then.” Her voice dropped to a murmur on the last part, enough that if Kaname hadn’t had his alpha senses, he might not have been able to hear it. 

“I’m Taki, and, well, you probably know Natsume’s cat, right? Natsume didn’t meet me when he was supposed to, and something happened, so we’re… looking for him.”

So it was _Natsume’s_ youkai cat. Well, that made sense, at least.

“Do you know what happened to him?” Kaname asked urgently. “I can feel that he’s hurt” —he tapped his chest— “here.”

“Well,” Taki-san said, a little wide-eyed, “he might have been… kidnapped?”

Kaname blinked at her. “I know about youkai.”

“Oh good, I can talk, then,” said a drawling, pitched, old-man voice.

“The cat can speak.” Kaname said blankly.

“Yes, I’m an ayakashi, get with the program,” the still-unnamed cat snapped. “Some uppity newcomer stole my snack, and we need to rescue the brat. Also, I found the right tree and the gate is open. Let’s go.”

“Wha—” Kaname started, but the light that had been frozen in place suddenly took off deeper into the forest, and the cat chased it without hesitation.

“Come with us,” Taki-san said quickly. “I think we’re almost there. We could use the backup, and it would probably good for Natsume to have his mate there if he really is injured or something.”

Kaname wasn’t so sure about the second part, but he followed anyway.

\--

They’d only been running for a minute when a dark chill settled around Kaname’s shoulders. He nearly crashed into Taki-san, who had stopped behind the suddenly-bristling cat. Even though it was probably pointless, Kaname still cast his gaze around the area, straining to see any hint of a youkai. When he looked back, the cat was gone, and Taki-san was slowly backing up the way they’d come.

“What’s going on?” He hissed, but his question was answered only a second later when two massive shadows towered to life in front of them, unsteady in his vision. He spared a brief glance for Taki-san, to check if she was seeing what he was—but by the way she was still frantically scanning over the entire space before them, he had a feeling she wasn’t.

After a few seconds of what Kaname could only assume was fighting, both shadows took off into the air and quickly vanished.

And they were alone. It didn’t take much to confirm that their little guide light was long gone as well.

Kaname could smell Taki-san’s sour uncertainty, just above the layer of his own ashy fear. It was rare that he was agitated enough to scent himself.

“Taki-san, they’re gone. Did you see where that light went?”

“You can see—?” She shook her head. “Never mind. No, I… I didn’t. I guess we just need to keep going toward the mountain.”

Kaname hesitated. “It’s not very accurate, but I can sort of feel what direction Natsume’s in. If you want to risk following me instead.”

Silently, Taki-san waved him forward, and, with the pressure in his chest winding tighter and tighter, Kaname took the lead.

\--~~--

“Madara that filthy, disgusting _cat_ ,” the stitch youkai snarled as it returned.

With light to see by once again, Takashi realized his vision was now clouded over by whatever the youkai had done to him. But it was still just sharp enough to tell that the youkai was in bad shape, dripping with black blood and possibly missing… chunks.

“Thinks he can keep both halves,” the youkai was muttering, “thinks he’s stronger than me. But not anymore!” 

It advanced on Takashi with alarming speed, and he couldn’t hold back a tiny whine as he shrunk against the wall.

“You,” spat the youkai. “You’re _mine_.”

Without pause, it snatched Takashi up in one fist, but this time left one of his arms free. When it lifted him up close to its face, Takashi lashed out, desperate, and the strike landed solidly just under its eye. The youkai shrieked and stumbled back. Takashi landed on his feet, but a sharp bolt of pain shot through his foot and leg, the one trapped by rope, and he felt his heart sink. That was a sprained ankle at least.

“I’m going to KILL YOU!” Roared the youkai, and Takashi barely dodged a swipe of its claws.

His vision was becoming hazier and the youkai was fading away, and Takashi fought with everything he had. He wished the pull in his chest would just _go away_ , there was no room for distractions now.

Without warning, the youkai yanked at the rope, _hard_ , and Takashi screamed as something in his ankle cracked. He hit the ground and skidded, barely able to feel the burn of sharp gravel scraping over his arm and leg and cheek. Struggling to push himself up on his hands, Takashi frantically scanned the cave—but there was nothing.

A huge force slammed down on the back of his neck, right over the pressure points, sending shocks of pain and _wrong, wrong, wrong_ all the way down to his fingertips. Takashi could do little more than wheeze, and even though his head was turned to the side, he could only see empty space. His Sight was gone.

“You’re going to regret that,” the youkai snarled, pressing down mercilessly.

It was hard to think straight. Takashi was pretty sure he’d hit his head on the way down, and the whole side of his face felt hot and wet. His spine and ribs were creaking in protest. He tried to make a fist, realized he couldn’t feel his fingers. Had he succeeded? No, even if he’d done it, he couldn’t see the youkai. He wouldn’t know where to hit.

The youkai lifted Takashi into the air again, and his entire body screamed. But everything was sort of numb, now. He tried to kick out, one last time, and his leg sparked with agony. Takashi groaned.

“Food doesn’t talk,” the youkai said.

Something pressed against Takashi’s lips—a finger maybe—and a dozen new pinpricks of pain made themselves known around the edges of his mouth. If his mind had been clearer, Takashi was sure he would’ve been able to parse out what it was, but he was too tired to think.

Suddenly, he was swung around, just in time to meet a blast of wind that whipped his hair over his aching face.

“That’s _my_ snack,” Madara’s voice rumbled.

If Takashi had had any strength left, he might’ve perked up— but there was only a second before his whole world turned to a dizzying fall. He must’ve hit the ground again, but he could hardly feel it, so he let himself lie there, quiet and hopefully unnoticed as the terrible sounds of battle and pain echoed through the cave.

Eventually, with a final growl and rush of air, the noises faded, and Takashi was plunged into silence. Light was still coming from the open cave entrance, but he was so blind by now that it was little more than a fuzz of lighter gray in his field of vision.

He couldn’t move. Vaguely, he wondered if the rope was still wrapped around his ankle, if he was still trapped.

Another helpless whine escaped his throat. Nyanko Sensei had taken the stitch youkai away, but and judging by the damning numbness in his limbs, Takashi was too hurt to be moving anytime soon.

The back of his neck was still crawling from the youkai’s touches, the ache in his chest was only getting stronger, and he was so, so tired. Takashi wasn’t sure things had ever gotten quite this bad before, not even when he’d fallen off an entire cliff. What was Touko-san going to think?

The faint chatter of voices reached his ears, and Takashi strained to hear them.

“…on earth is this?”

“I think this might be the right place. It feels right, anyway.”

“Just be careful.”

…Familiar voices. Was that… Taki-san and Tanuma? What were they doing here? He had to— had to…

Run? Hide? Go out to meet them? Takashi almost laughed. He couldn’t move at all. It didn’t matter.

“Hello?” Tanuma’s voice called.

The sound echoed hollowly through the cave.

“Oh, we should’ve brought flashlights… although I guess we had no way of knowing.”

“And no time to get them.”

There were a few moments of quiet, save for the careful patter of footsteps on rock.

“Oh, there’s something back here,” Taki-san’s voice grew louder as she came closer. “Excuse me, are you oka—” She stopped. Shaking fingers brushed over Takashi’s hair.

“Tanuma-kun!” She yelled, and Takashi flinched at the piercing volume.

Footsteps came thundering over stone.

“Oh my god,” Tanuma whispered. “Natsume—how?”

“Is it even safe to move him? There’s a… a rope here too.”

“I can’t see anything in here, we need to get him a little closer to the light to take care of him.”

Hands landed on Takashi’s arms and waist and legs, and his scream was muffled by his swollen throat and whatever the youkai had done to his mouth. Then he was moving, and the light gray slowly got brighter.

“Oh god, Natsume, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” Tanuma sounded strangely furious, or pleading, maybe, and Takashi somehow wanted to escape more now than he had from the youkai. Of all the people who could’ve found him…

“What _happened_ to him?” Taki-san sounded close to tears, and Takashi tried to reassure her, but even his mouth wasn’t cooperating. A moment later, he touched the ground again.

“Okay, just turn him over a little, so we can— Oh—”

Tanuma’s murmur was cut off by a sudden retch, and not long after, the spatter of what Takashi could only assume was vomit.

“Tanuma?!”

“His mouth—how—Taki-san, do you see it?”

A pause.

“Okay, okay, I’m fine, I can just…”

Tanuma’s fingers landed on the bare skin of Takashi’s arm, and he gasped as searing heat shot out from every point of contact. The pull of the bond was instantly silenced.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry Natsume.” Tanuma sounded near tears too, and that wasn’t right, alphas weren’t supposed to be crying over _Takashi_.

Still. It made him warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAIN
> 
> Catch me on [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/), maybe


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost 600 kudos what the f-
> 
> I need y'all to understand that I've lost control of my life in general and this fic particular. Enjoy the angst!
> 
> TW: Mild body horror for the stitches (near end of chapter) and injuries, and slight dub-con for non-sexual bonding under duress.

Kaname was literally the worst person in the world for registering in _any_ corner of his mind that Natsume smelled good. Not when Natsume was dripping with his own blood, when tiny rocks were embedded in his skin, when his neck was purpling with bruises, when his ankle was swollen and twisted, when his _lips_ were criss-crossed with dark thread that Taki-san apparently couldn’t see—

Taki-san had brought a water bottle with her— courtesy of long days spent wandering the fields under the hot sun, she told him— so Kaname stripped off his flimsy overshirt, tore it into strips (he didn’t need it anyway), and together, in the dim light of the cave entrance, they tried to wipe away the worst of the blood and gravel. Every time Kaname’s bare fingers met Natsume’s skin, Natsume flinched, and Kaname felt streaks of warmth from their connection ripple up his arm. He hated it.

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to carry him out of here if Nyanko doesn’t come back, never mind the rope,” Taki-san said fearfully. Her scent was so far gone into horrified, it had turned dull and almost unnoticeable.

“We’ll have to,” Kaname murmured. No one would know to look for any of them for a while yet, and they had no way of contacting help in a youkai-only pocket of the forest.

Gently, he followed the trail of blood on Natsume’s temple, combing through his hair until found a significant lump accented by torn skin. Kaname hissed in aching sympathy.

“Tanuma-kun,” Taki-san whispered, so quietly that Kaname had to actually look up to double check that she was speaking. “Can you see youkai? The way Natsume-kun can?”

Kaname sucked in a slow breath. It was strange, talking about such a secret part of his life so casually with someone he’d just met. “No, not really. I get headaches when one is nearby, sometimes, but the most I ever see are shadows.”

“I see.” Her entire body slumped, but she didn’t pause in smoothing the cloth over the sluggishly-bleeding abrasions on Natsume’s arm.

Heavy silence lingered for a few more moments before Kaname spoke again.

“Why?”

“I thought of a… spell, maybe, that could help heal him, but… I’ve never tried it before, and it needs a lot of power. More than either of us have.” Taki-san sighed. “It’s okay. Even if you did have that kind of strength, the spell would still be too dangerous to use.”

Kaname nodded, once, feeling irrationally as though he’d let her, let Natsume, down. Cautiously, he rubbed a wet thumb over Natsume’s closed eyelid to clear his lashes of blood. _Healing…_

“There might be… something,” Kaname said after a moment. “But I don’t know if it will work.”

Taki-san raised an eyebrow.

“Nishimura was telling me that true mates are special…” He paused, and felt his face heat. It had sounded a bit better in his head. “Obviously. But they’re supposed to heal faster when they’re together. So I thought, maybe…”

“Ah,” Taki-san breathed out. “Well, to be honest, I barely know you, so I can’t judge whether or not you can be trusted with Natsume-kun like that. But so far you seem decent,” she quirked a tiny smile, but it faded right away. “And at this point… any little thing might be worth it.”

It was all horribly reminiscent of the time spent at Natsume’s side in the hospital not so long ago, with Natsume hurt, maybe dying, and unable to agree to their attempts for cure. Only this was a lot worse than a few minutes of touch therapy.

Carefully, Kaname looked back down at Natsume, who was still breathing fast and shallow, his face creased with obvious pain.

“Do you think… is there a way to break a true mate bond, later? If he doesn’t want it?” Kaname asked into the air, unable to meet Taki-san’s gaze.

“I have no idea,” she murmured, “I’m a beta, so I never did pay too much attention to the idea of true mates. But Tanuma-kun,” she shifted a little, “I may not have researched alpha-omega bonds, but I do know that breaking even a normal mating is… supposed to be unbearable.”

“I know.” Kaname’s chest ached in an entirely new way, now. “I know.”

Silently, Taki-san passed him the remaining water and rags. “I’ll try and… give you a little privacy.”

Kaname watched her back until she walked out of view of the narrow cave entrance, waited until her footsteps and scent faded enough to make him feel alone.

“Natsume,” he whispered, cupping a hand around his mate’s unscraped cheek. Natsume let out another tiny gasp at the touch. “Please. I’m sorry, but you’re—I need to help you. If you”— Kaname took a deep breath— “if you don’t want this, later, I’ll find a way to undo it, I swear. But… this is the only thing I can think of right now. I’m not going to let you die.”

Slowly, Natsume’s eyes slid open, and Kaname’s heart fell to see they were clouded over, dark and mostly unseeing. He smoothed a thumb under Natsume’s right eye anyway. “Please,” he begged. “I promise I’ll take care of you. I don’t know what hurt you today, but there’s no way I’m letting it do that again. I might not be as strong as you, but I’ll find a way. I need you. Kitamoto and Nishimura and Taki-san and the Fujiwaras need you. Please, just for now…”

Natsume blinked at him, just once. Hoping against hope, Kaname slid his hand into Natsume’s still-bloody one, and— Natsume latched on.

It was nothing like Kaname had expected, but now he couldn’t imagine it any other way. The bond unfurled, spark by spark, up his arm and into his chest where it settled with such a feeling of _fullness_ in a place he hadn’t realized was empty that Kaname nearly collapsed right then and there. His skin washed hot, then cold, then warm. Some unfamiliar but distinctly _Natsume_ presence took up residence in the back of his head, and Kaname’s inner alpha curled up around it with a satisfied sigh. How had he even survived so long without this?

Eventually, Natsume’s scent drifted up to Kaname’s nose, marred by blood and the bitterness of pain, but sweeter and clearer than before. Changed by the bond.

Kaname ached to _touch_ all of a sudden, just to smooth his hands down Natsume’s skin, to curl around him and protect him, to bring their scent glands together until they smelled like each other. But that wasn’t his place. Not until he and Natsume could talk.

Gently, Kaname resumed his ministrations, allowing his fingertips to brush over patches of unbroken skin, just enough to feel the bond thrum strong and golden between them. Natsume’s eyes were wide open now, vaguely tracking Kaname’s movements, and his hand was clenched weakly over Kaname’s knee.

A minute or so later, Taki-san returned.

“Did it work?” She asked, hesitant.

“The bond did, but I’m not sure about the rest. At least, not yet.”

“He looks more awake now,” Taki-san said hopefully. “Natsume? How are you feeling?”

Natsume’s head tilted a little, and Kaname wanted to throw up all over again. “He… can’t speak right now.”

“Oh.” Taki-san looked a little taken aback, but in a moment, her face cleared. “You can feel that through the bond?”

Kaname let his eyes flicker over the dark angry stitches that pinned Natsume’s mouth shut. “…Yeah.”

He met Natsume’s unfocused gaze before quickly turning away.

She sat with her back against the cave wall, drawing her knees up to her chest and laying her head on top. “And you feel alright?”

Actually, Kaname felt sick, but that wouldn’t be changing anytime soon. “I’ll manage.”

Glancing up at the slowly, ominously dimming light, Kaname carded his fingers through Natsume’s hair again. It felt _right_ to be having as much contact as possible, made his skin tingle with pleasure. He hoped Natsume would be strong enough to move soon. Kaname might not be able to See, but he was getting the distinct impression that it would be best for all their continued health to get out before night fell.

\--~~--

Madara stood triumphantly over the crumbling remains of the ayakashi who’d dared to kidnap his snack. He was breathing a little harder and was scratched up a little more that he’d like to admit, but it was done.

Narrowing his eyes into the late afternoon light, Madara shook himself free of the dirt and leaves he’d accumulated during battle and took off into the sky with an easy leap.

He’d been forced to chase the ayakashi outside of the pocket world all three humans remained trapped in, and it would take him some time to find the key to get back. He pulled his lips back in a half-conscious snarl and whipped his tail. Once the stich ayakashi had released the brat, Madara had no longer been paying much attention. But Natsume had been…

Didn’t matter. Between Hinoe and the human hospital, they’d take care of whatever injuries Natsume had managed to collect this time.

…No one would notice if he pressed on a little faster, right?

\--~~--

The bond sizzled under Takashi’s skin, a shockingly pleasant counter to the numbness in his body that promised a world of agony later. He could _feel_ Tanuma now, fear and a strange, aching warmth of an emotion not his own echoing faintly in his chest. He was mated now. To _Tanuma_. And no matter what Tanuma had promised, Takashi could feel the sinking permanence of the bond, now that it was closed and… whole.

Distantly, he thought back to the few times he’d seen bonding in action, with all the bite marks and trembling omegas, and wondered if the mating wasn’t supposed to have hurt more.

Above him, the vague gray shadow of Tanuma continued shift about, wiping something cold and wet over Takashi’s skin and leaving behind momentary trails of pain when it brushed over a scrape or bruise. Tanuma was murmuring something soft and comforting as he did so, but Takashi was too focused on the tingling chills that Tanuma’s brief touches left behind hear the words. All he could do now was cling onto Tanuma’s knee like a lifeline to keep himself anchored the real world.

Takashi drifted for a bit after that, but eventually Tanuma stopped his ministrations and Taki-san’s voice returned. The sounds of their conversation were oddly distant, as if Takashi was listening from underwater.

“If we’re careful, we might be able to carry him without hurting him,” Tanuma was saying, “but I don’t even remember the way out anymore.”

“I think waiting is our best option,” Taki-san said quietly.

Tanuma made a faint noise of agreement. Then—

“Natsume?”

Takashi turned his head a little, trying to focus on Tanuma’s form.

“Would it be alright if I sort of… pick you up? It will probably be more comfortable than the ground.” Tanuma sounded strangely hopeful.

Takashi was too numb and exhausted to put up a fight either way, but… Tanuma didn’t seem angry or leering or dismissive. Maybe it would be okay. With a tiny nod, Takashi tried to respond, only to be stopped a dragging pain through his lips— and his mouth wouldn’t open. Confused, he tried again, only to have a hand come down over his mouth.

“Oh god, Natsume, stop,” Tanuma gasped. “Please, you can’t do that right now.”

With fresh panic now steadily rising in his gut, Takashi tried to ask what was wrong, only to be blocked again. The pain worsened the more he struggled. A tearing sensation stung at the corner of his mouth, and trickle of something wet seeped over the seam of his lips.

“No, no, Natsume please, you have to _stop_.”

The sudden growl of Tanuma’s alpha Voice shot through Takashi’s brain like a thunderbolt, and of course his body froze without his permission. The control only lasted for a second, but it was enough to kick his heart into overdrive and send him scrabbling against the rocky ground, regardless of his injuries.

New hands, Taki-san’s this time, pinned Takashi gently but firmly down until he stopped moving. His own breaths—through his nose only, he now realized—were loud and harsh to his ears.

“—I’m sorry, Natsume, but there’s— your mouth is— it will hurt you more if you try to talk. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have used my Voice, I won’t do it again.” Tanuma was saying, pleading, almost.

The bond was pulled taut and buzzing furiously between them from Takashi’s unconscious attempt to escape it. Suddenly, irrationally, resentful, he gave it another fierce yank, and couldn’t even bring himself to fear the alpha’s retaliation when Tanuma made a soft, punched-out noise in response.

No one said anything else after that. Slowly, the wind picked up as the heat of the day faded, but beyond the rustle of leaves, the cave entrance was achingly quiet. Takashi couldn’t see Tanuma at all, but wherever he was sitting, it was far enough away that Takashi’s instincts couldn’t immediately pinpoint him, and he never came any closer. Instead, it was Taki-san’s careful hands that combed through Takashi’s hair, and if every one of his nerves hadn’t been strung out, he might’ve relaxed into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >.>
> 
> Scream at me on [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get so many nice comments every week, i cri, y'all are the actual best :')
> 
> ~~more a n g s t baby~~

Without his sight, Takashi’s first warning of Nyanko Sensei’s return was Tanuma’s soft exclamation, followed by Sensei’s transformation sound and Taki-san’s squeal of delight. Her hands left his hair, presumably to get closer to Sensei, and Takashi strained to hear their quiet exchange.

“Is he alive?” Nyanko asked gruffly.

“Yes,” Tanuma said after a pause, “but there’s…”

The jingling of a bell and pattering of small footsteps (pawsteps?) drawing closer to Takashi’s head informed him that Sensei now standing over him, probably with his usual judgmental stare.

Instead, he was surprised to hear Nyanko’s low, furious growl, a sound much closer to his voice in wolf form than his lucky cat vessel. “How _dare_ they.”

A blinding light momentarily whited out Takashi’s already limited vision, and as he slowly blinked shades of grey back into existence, he realized the tugging pain over his lips was gone. He could open his mouth again. He took a deep breath, only to whimper when feeling in his ribs broke past the numbness to scream in protest.

“Oh thank god,” Tanuma breathed somewhere in the background.

“A seal,” Nyanko snarled. “And a disgusting, sloppy one at that.” The bell jingled again. “I ate the ayakashi that lived here, but staying past dark will only be more troublesome. Come. We’re leaving.”

“Which is a great plan,” Taki-san said, sounding unusually uncertain, “but I don’t know how much we can move Natsume-kun without hurting him more. I’m pretty sure the bond with Tanuma-kun helped stabilize him a little, but still…”

“Oh, so you did bond with the brat then? Good job,” Nyanko said dismissively.

Takashi wasn’t really sure which of them Sensei was addressing, but apparently it didn’t matter.

“You, Tanuma. You can see me outside of my vessel, right? Put Natsume on my back and hold him there while I carry all three of you out. Honestly.”

“Ugh,” Taki-san groaned. At any other time, Takashi might have laughed.

“There’s a rope around his ankle as well,” Tanuma said. “Can you—”

There was a brief tug and the sting of rope burn at Takashi’s ankle, and the faint tension that had been keeping him tied to the back of the cave was gone.

“Done,” Nyanko rumbled, clearly in his wolf form again.

After some fumbling and hasty discussion of how to safely relocate Takashi to Nyanko’s back, Taki-san’s and, more hesitantly, Tanuma’s hands returned in a repeat of how they’d carried him to the cave entrance. Tanuma’s touch still sent tingling static up Takashi’s spine, and he shuddered. At least it kept the pain at bay.

Once they were settled on Nyanko’s back, Tanuma’s hands vanished, and it was Taki-san who held Takashi steady as they shot into the sky. How he was going to thank her properly for all of this, Takashi wasn’t sure. Perhaps Touko-san would have some ideas.

\--~~--

It was already decidedly unnerving to be soaring hundreds of feet above the ground on what appeared, to Kaname’s eyes, to be little more than a mass of smoke. But he only _really_ started to worry when Nyanko Sensei… no way was he calling this grouchy riceball of a cat-thing _Sensei_. Ponta fit much better. Anyway, the worry only really started when Kaname realized they were flying parallel to town, still well over the forest.

“Where are we going?” He yelled into the furious rush of air, but his words were snatched away immediately. Belatedly, he also realized that with Ponta in his youkai form, even if he answered Kaname, Kaname wouldn’t be able to hear it.

To his mild surprise, he got Taki-san’s answer instead.

“I don’t know,” She shouted, barely audible even though they were only about a foot apart. “But Natsume-kun knows a lot of youkai in this forest, so maybe…”

They didn’t have to wait much longer to find out. Ponta hit the ground with a thud so jarring that Kaname winced for Natsume’s sake. He ached to reach out and touch, just to reassure himself that his mate was still fine, still there. But after stupidly using his Voice— and Natsume’s subsequent, immediate rejection— it wasn’t his place. Kaname hadn’t known Taki-san for long, but she seemed perfectly capable of and willing to take care of Natsume, so he would leave it to her.

After a moment of stillness, they were lowered that extra bit closer to the forest floor, which Kaname took to mean that Ponta was crouched and wanted the three of them off. It took some maneuvering and several miserable whines from Natsume that tore at Kaname’s heart, but eventually they were all safely on the ground, and Ponta’s cat form appeared in a puff of smoke.

“You, girl. Draw one of your circles here.”

With a faintly-green tinge to her face and visibly shaky knees, Taki-san grimly shuffled forward and picked up a loose branch to start drawing with. Kaname watched curiously. Was it another spell of some kind?

When she’d finished and stood back, barely a second passed before a figure—a _youkai_ , Kaname realized with a start—strode into sight, as if passing through a wall.

“—remind you again, Madara, that I deal in curses, not healing.” A woman’s voice, refined but definitely not polite.

Kaname stared, slack-jawed, first at Taki-san, who was now crouched on the ground, then at the youkai woman and her richly indigo hair, eyes, and kimono. A smoking pipe rested loosely in her hand.

“And who are these humans?” The youkai asked, turning her piercing gaze upon Kaname.

“A priest’s boy, Natsume’s bond,” Ponta said gruffly, “and some new exorcist blood.”

Kaname met Taki-san’s eyes and matched her surprised blink for surprised blink, but a squeal from the youkai woman quickly distracted him.

“So _you’re_ the bond! Darling Natsume’s been in an awful lot of trouble without you, you know,” she drawled.

Guilt stung at Kaname’s heart, irrational as it was.

“And a young exorcist, hmm? You’ll be an interesting one to watch,” she continued with a brief gesture at the circle.

“I’m not really—” Taki-san started, but the youkai ignored her.

“Well, let’s see him, then.” She vanished from the circle in their direction.

Kaname stiffened, and helplessly stepped a little closer to Natsume, unable to stop a sudden wave of protectiveness. A chill brushed past his arm. He shuddered.

A piece of paper could’ve cut the next few moments of tension. Kaname didn’t exactly look over to check, but he could tell Taki-san was watching Natsume just as intently as he was.

Kaname relaxed only when the last terrible, tiny red pinpricks that surrounded Natsume’s mouth slowly faded away. The remaining loop of rope around his ankle also swiftly loosened and vanished. Natsume’s eyelids fluttered for a moment, then squeezed sharply shut, and Kaname twitched. Not long after, the youkai woman reappeared in the circle, delicately dusting off her hands with the frayed segment of rope draped over her wrist.

“Well, I did my best to purify him— burned away the last of my stabilization seal in the process, by the way— but there’s not much I can do for his… human injuries,” she said with distaste. “His Sight will probably clear up in a day or two, so you’ll have to actually do your job until then, O great _bodyguard_. Other than that…” She shrugged.

“…Right. Thanks, Hinoe.” Ponta grumbled, barely audible even to Kaname’s ears.

The youkai— Hinoe, apparently —dropped her jaw so far that Kaname was genuinely concerned about possible bugs flying in. “ _You’re actually t_ —”

Whatever she was going to say was swiftly blocked out by Ponta’s sudden disappearance and reappearance as a massive furry snout in the circle, inelegantly shoving her out.

When youkai Ponta turned toward him, it was Kaname’s turn to gape. They’d been flying on _that_?

“Get on,” scary-Ponta rumbled, and after Kaname helped Taki-san to her feet, they did just that. It was a lot easier when they could see what they were doing. Natsume made a few less miserable noises while they got him settled, which Kaname could only hope meant he was at least a little more comfortable.

Taki-san once again held Natsume still on the flight, so Kaname had to lean in to talk to her. 

“What are we going to tell the Fujiwaras? This obviously wasn’t just a nasty fall.” He swallowed down bile when his gaze caught on deep purplish-black bruises that peeked around the sides of Natsume’ neck.

“The Fujiwa—” Taki-san started with a frown, but then her face cleared. “Ah, Natsume-kun’s foster parents. I… don’t know.” She looked away. “I haven’t known Natsume-kun for all that long, and I never met his family. He doesn’t talk about them much either.”

“Oh.” It was a shock that she knew so little, but then, that sounded exactly like a Natsume sort of thing to do, and Kaname barely knew him either.

\--

They were just closing in on the Fujiwara home when Natsume groaned and stirred. Before Taki-san could make any move to push him back down, he made a clear attempt to sit up, only to drop back with a gasp when something popped ominously. His next breaths wheezed; and Kaname and Taki-san only had to meet each other’s eyes for the space of a blink before they were both yelling at Ponta to change directions. Kaname could only hold on tight and pray for Natsume to hang on until the hospital rose into view.

By the time Ponta landed safely out of sight and Kaname and Taki-san had rushed Natsume to the hospital entrance, they were a veritable storm of sour, charred fear. Apparently _so_ much so in Kaname’s case that a nurse pulled him aside to give him a checkup as well.

“Tanuma-kun, are you sure you don’t have any underlying pheromonal or hyper-emotional conditions?” She asked while frowning at a chart. “Your hormone levels are dangerously high.”

“I…” Kaname fidgeted. “Natsume is my friend. I’m just worried.”

“Hmm… it could be the stress, I suppose,” she said with a brief head scratch. “But still unusual. If this ever happens again, you’re going to need some blood tests. In any case, until you can calm down a little, you’re stuck with me.”

So Kaname sat huddled in the examination room, breathing in the nurse’s cotton-soft beta scent and trying to avoid hyperventilation.

When he was finally released nearly a half an hour later, he was startled to find Taki-san and the Fujiwaras in low conversation in a corner of the waiting room. Touko-san waved him over with a tired smile.

“I’m sorry it had to be here again, but it’s good to see you, Tanuma-kun,” she said.

“You too,” Kaname murmured. He glanced at Taki-san. “Has there been any news? The nurse wouldn’t tell me.”

There was a general shaking of heads.

“He’s in surgery right now, but it hasn’t been very long,” Shigeru-san said. Some of Kaname’s horror must’ve shown on his face, because Shigeru-san quickly continued. “They told us it was just to set his ribs and ankle, nothing high-risk. But…”

“What _happened_?” Touko-san pleaded. “Taki-san said you found him collapsed out in the fields…”

Kaname shot Taki-san a desperate look, but she only widened her eyes with a message he couldn’t interpret. “Uh, yeah. I’m… well, I’m Natsume’s true mate? So when I felt him hurting, and I went to find him.” Cringing at his own hesitance, Kaname braced himself for Touko and Shigeru-san’s reactions.

But the two of them only sighed in tandem. 

“Ah, so it _was_ true,” Touko-san said. “Did Takashi-kun ever manage to talk to you about that? Your scent did change a little.” She sounded oddly hopeful.

“Well… not really,” Kaname said, a hot flash of fresh guilt and panic shooting down his spine. But if anyone had to know, it was the Fujiwaras. “I’d felt the—the bond for a while, but I didn’t want to scare Natsume, so I never said anything. But today”—he swallowed hard— “I made him close the bond with me when I saw how bad he— um. True mate bonds are supposed to make people heal faster, so I forced it on him.”

Kaname met Touko-san’s wide eyes for a microsecond before returning his gaze to the ground. “I’m sorry. I’ll find a way to break it, I promise. I only want to help him.” If they hadn’t been in a hospital, Kaname was pretty sure he would’ve prostrated himself at their feet.

“It’s alright, Tanuma-kun. We believe you,” Shigeru-san said, the old, polished wood of his scent a reflection of his well-worn calm. “It’s only Takashi-kun that you’ll have to work this out with. And we’ll help both of you. Properly, this time.” He added with a somewhat crooked smile.

Barely daring to believe his luck, Kaname hesitantly offered a smile of his own.

“It was only thanks to Tanuma-kun and the bond, I think, that we were able to carry Natsume-kun back here,” Taki-san spoke up, “but as for what exactly happened… we don’t know.”

Technically, that was true, Kaname realized. They knew a youkai that Taki-san had been chasing had taken Natsume, which presumably had been the same one to hurt Natsume so badly. But the details were vague, and Ponta certainly hadn’t offered clarification. 

“He was supposed to meet me later in the afternoon to help with a project, but he must’ve gone out earlier. I told him to _rest_ ,” she added shakily.

Touko and Shigeru-san exchanged a glance that might as well have been an entire conversation. Kaname was almost jealous.

“We understand. Thank you so much, both of you, for taking care of Takashi-kun. I assume you both plan to wait here until the surgery is over?” Touko-san asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course,” Kaname blurted out, and he could see Taki-san nodding fervently out of the corner of his eye.

“And Tanuma-kun,” Shigeru-san said slowly, placing a cautious hand on Kaname’s shoulder. “I’m no expert, but will you be alright? Having an injured partner in a normal bond is hard enough; I can’t imagine it’s any easier in a true mate bond.”

Kaname shrugged. The bond _was_ tugging again, scratching at the inside of his skull and urging him to go to Natsume’s side; to stay together until the connection between them settled. But that wasn’t anything particularly new. “I’ll manage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >.>
> 
> Find me on my barely-functioning [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)  
> (also, I've been noticing a lot of continuity errors as i edit lately, so if you see any funny business, please let me know!)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, dumpster fam! The saga continues...

Touko knew she wasn’t an especially forceful or inquisitive person, but she was still observant enough to know that Taki-san and Tanuma-kun weren’t telling the whole truth. But they were clearly just as scared for Takashi-kun as Touko was, so she let it lie for the moment. Whatever they were hiding, it wasn’t malicious.

It was another long and anxious wait in the hospital’s stiff-backed visitor chairs. Shigeru kindly took the initiative to buy them all drinks from a nearby vending machine as the minutes ticked on, and, looking at the drink in her hand, Touko marveled once again at how such a small thing could go such a long way for keeping her calm.

Tanuma-kun, on the other hand, was alternately violently fidgeting and sitting so still she had to double check to make sure he was still breathing. She was genuinely concerned for him.

So when, nearly two hours later, a nurse emerged to announce that Takashi-kun was out of surgery and ready for visitors, Touko nudged Tanuma-kun along.

“Why don’t you go with Shigeru?” She said. When Shigeru opened his mouth, she cut him off. “No, I had first visit rights last time, and I see those protective instincts of yours. I’ll be just fine right here.”

Tanuma-kun also opened his mouth for an apparent argument, and Touko sighed. “Whatever the circumstances, Takashi-kun is your mate. Go reassure yourself that he’s fine.”

Tanuma-kun must’ve been feeling the mate-pull even more than she’d expected, because he didn’t put up any further resistance.

“We won’t be too long,” Shigeru reassured her with a gentle brush against her wrist gland. And the two of them were gone.

Touko allowed the quiet to settle for a few moments, busying herself with absorbing the remaining warmth from her tea. When she finally looked up, Taki-san was already watching her with nervous, slanted eyes.

“I hope I’m wrong, but Taki-san… it wasn’t people, was it? Alphas?” Touko said it as gently as she could. Judging by the extent and odd dispersion of Takashi-kun’s injuries, she was pretty sure it wasn’t, but still…

Taki-san blinked at her for a moment, eyebrows scrunched and head tilted, before the meaning registered and her eyes blew wide. “Oh! No, god, definitely not. I’m sorry, I should’ve— of course you would’ve thought—"

“Then that wasn’t the whole story, was it?” Touko said softly, more statement than question.

Taki-san’s gaze flicked away. “What makes you think that?”

Touko thought about it for a bit. “Intuition, I suppose. Your story was very simple. It’s a long walk from those fields to this hospital, even if you weren’t carrying someone. And Takashi-kun has always been… something more. Something he never tells us.”

The following silence was heavy, pondering, so Touko waited.

“…You’re right,” Taki-san said at last. “But I’m still not going to tell you the little more I do know.” Their eyes met. “Not because I don’t think you deserve it, or even that you wouldn’t take it well, but because it’s not my place to tell.”

Touko studied her serious face and the stiff lines of her body. “Even though Natsume is apparently in danger from it?”

Taki-san sighed, a frustrated, aching sound. “Yes. I found out Natsume-kun’s secret from… external sources. So did Tanuma-kun. I don’t want to betray his trust. And… as it stands, even if you did know, it would only make things more dangerous. For you.”

Though Touko’s suspicions weren’t new, it was still hard to wrap her mind around the idea that Takashi-kun had a secret so important that it was dangerous; so important that people he’d known only for a short while were unwaveringly loyal to him. “I see.”

“I’m sorry,” Taki-san offered helplessly.

“I know.” Touko took a slow breath, deliberately calming her pheromones down to their usual fresh, green scent. “Then, if it’s truly something I can’t help him with, I’ll trust you. And Takashi-kun. And hopefully someday soon he’ll be ready to tell us.” She knew her smile was melancholy.

“I hope so too. He needs it,” Taki-san said. 

Together, they returned to nursing the remnants of their respective drinks, Touko’s thoughts keeping a steady buzz in the back of her mind.

\--

“I’ve never seen anything quite like this before,” Kimura Sensei announced upon her return to the waiting room with Shigeru and Tanuma-kun. They both smelled far calmer than when they’d left, which Touko could only hope meant good news.

“It’s a good thing, of course, and it probably helped keep him stable for the surgery. But even mates don’t heal this quickly.” Kimura shook her head.

Tanuma-kun hadn’t told her, then. Touko frowned at him, and he flinched minutely.

“Natsume-san should wake up this evening, and I want to keep him overnight for observation. But if everything continues to go as smoothly as it is now, he’ll be ready to go home by tomorrow.”

In the end, it was decided that Shigeru would be the one to stay the night, while the rest of them went home. The burnt citrus of Tanuma’s distress spiked at the news, but the hospital policy didn’t allow for anyone but family and mates to stay. There was nothing any of them could do.

“Why didn’t you tell Kimura Sensei?” Touko asked him, hoping it sounded supportive, not accusing.

Tanuma-kun hesitated. “It just feels like… if I tell them, it’ll be _real_. They’ll have to put it down in writing and expect me to know things, when really, I was the one to force it on Natsume just today. And I don’t want to do that to him when I promised I’d— break the bond, if he wants.” His voice shook a little as he said it.

Touko didn’t like it at all, but she _did_ understand his need to figure it out on his own, and respected his attempt to respect Takashi-kun. She’d give him some time before bringing it up again. “Try to get some sleep, and you can come back first thing in the morning,” she said softly.

He nodded. And after Taki-san waved her goodbyes, the two of them were out the door, side by side, and into the dusk.

\--~~--

By the time Kaname got back home and had locked himself in his bedroom, he was shaking like a leaf. If he’d thought the initial pull of the bond trying to bring him to Natsume had been bad, this was a thousand times worse. He felt cold from the tips of his fingers, aching for a warmth that wasn’t there, his stomach turned with nausea, and his throat felt cracked and dry without Natsume’s scent to soothe it. Everything felt wrong, wrong, _wrong_ , and it was all he could to do stumble out of his dirt-and-blood speckled clothes and into bed, not even bothering with dinner. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep it down anyway.

He’d brought this on himself, and he’d suffer the consequences.

When morning arrived, Kaname was still shivering, and he wondered if he’d even be able to _get_ to the hospital. Maybe if he could keep it together long enough, he could sneak past his dad to reach the phone and call… oh god. Nishimura and Kitamoto were supposed to be joining him today for— he almost laughed at the miserable irony of it— Mission Natsume. No maybe about it then, he’d have to call them to cancel. And explain. Or make an excuse? But no, even through the haze of bond sickness, that didn’t seem like a smart idea.

Dragging himself out from beneath the covers, Kaname nearly hit the floor when his legs immediately gave out from under him. With a groan, and swallowing down fresh nausea, he pulled himself up again. He was ninety-nine percent sure bond sickness shouldn’t be _this_ bad. Maybe it was a true mate thing too.

Fortunately, his dad was still safely sequestered in the kitchen, so Kaname shamelessly used the walls to hold himself up on the way to the phone.

Nishimura picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, Nishimura. This’s Tanuma. I… need to change our plans for today.”

There was a crackly moment of quiet. “Tanuma, are you sick? You don’t sound so good.”

Kaname let out a laugh that caught in his aching throat and turned into a cough instead, as if to prove Nishimura right. “Yeah. Something like that. Natsume’s in the hospital again, and I have— have bond sickness.” 

“ _What_?”

Kaname could practically see Nishimura’s incredulous face, even through the phone.

“Wait, so you _mated_ — no, what happened to Natsume? How…”

“I was trying to save him,” Kaname rasped out. “And it worked, I think. But he doesn’t want it. Nishimura, please help me figure out how to break the bond. Please.”

There was another moment of silence. Then an uneasy laugh. “Tanuma, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Breaking a normal mating bond usually doesn’t end well for either party, and I’ve never heard of anyone breaking a true mate bond. Ever.”

“But I promised him,” Kaname said desperately, “he only closed the bond with me because I promised I would break it later if he didn’t want it. Please don’t let me be a liar.”

“…No.” Nishimura said, quiet but unwavering. “No. I’m not going to help you with that, because I don’t want either of you to— to _die_. There are other ways to deal with the bond if you two really, really can’t be with each other, and I’ll help with that, but I’m not letting you break it.”

Kaname slumped down the wall until he was huddled on the ground. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Nishimura said, closer to his normal tone once again. “So, I’ll call Acchan about this, but first, tell me when we can visit.”

“I don’t know. The Fujiwaras are supposed to be able to take Natsume back home today, but I’m not sure when. I was going to visit in the hospital now, but… I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make it.”

Nishimura made a strange noise. “It’s that bad?”

Kaname hummed a soft agreement.

“If you don’t mind waiting a bit, Acchan and I can come over to help you get there,” Nishimura offered. “Try to rest if you can. We don’t want you getting worse before you can even get back to Natsume.”

The phone clicked, and Kaname slowly pulled the receiver away from his ear, staring hopelessly up at the suddenly-mountainous phone stand above his head. Then, as if the universe wanted to spite him just a little bit more, his dad chose that moment to step out into the hall. 

“Kaname? Are you up yet?” He was looking the other way.

“Dad,” Kaname called weakly.

His dad turned, face flooded with worry. “What happened? Kaname, are you sick?”

Kaname allowed himself to be manhandled into a better sitting position and relaxed a little into the familiar tang of his dad’s warm bronze scent. “No. Well, kind of. It’s just bondsickness.”

His dad pulled back, and Kaname dizzily met his startled gaze. 

“Bondsickness? Is this— did you bond with the omega you asked me about earlier?”

“Yeah. We _do_ have a true mate bond, and it was an emergency, an’ he rejected me, an’ it hurts,” Kaname slurred into his dad’s shoulder.

“Ah.”

They sat there together in silence, Kaname breathing through the ache and his dad rubbing gentle circles into his back for he wasn’t sure how long, before his dad carefully hoisted him up. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed for now.”

“No, wait,” Kaname weakly tugged at the arms supporting him. “My friends are, are coming over soon. I need to go back and see Natsume.”

“Hmm. We’ll deal with that when they arrive, but for now, you need to rest.” His dad’s voice was calm, but Kaname knew it well enough to recognize disagreement when he heard it. He tried again to stand on his own (how had he even gotten to the phone in the first place?) but his body wouldn’t cooperate. No _wonder_ mates could never seem to stay apart, if this was what it felt like.

Hopefully, Nishimura and Kitamoto would be able to get him to the hospital anyway.

\--

Kaname wasn’t quite sure when he’d fallen asleep, but when he woke, he was sitting slumped in the backseat of an idling car, with quiet voices murmuring around him.

“It probably won’t be too long, and we’ll take care of him,” Nishimura’s voice was saying. “Thank you, sir.”

Kaname’s dad was apparently farther away from the car because Kaname couldn’t make out his reply. But whatever he’d said, it was apparently final. Nishimura slid into the seat at Kaname’s side, and the door slammed closed.

“Will he be alright for this?” A woman’s voice asked from the front seat.

“The only cure to put him next to Natsume, so he’d better be,” Nishimura said.

\--

By the time the car pulled up beside the hospital, Kaname was feeling better, enough that he was able to pull himself out of his half-asleep daze and actually lift his head to talk to his friends.

“Oh good, you’re up! I was just wondering how we were going to get you into the building.” Nishimura greeted him cheerfully. “Your dad’s kinda scary when he’s trying to protect you by the way, which is a good thing, but yikes.”

Kaname blinked. If it weren’t for the rotten tinge that overlaid Nishimura’s normally sweet scent, he wouldn’t have known Nishimura was worried at all. “Yes.”

“Okay, so you’re not _that_ awake then.”

Nishimura helped Kaname stagger out of the car and propped him up with a shoulder.

“Thanks Mom,” Kitamoto said into the driver’s seat window. Then, as the car drove away, Kaname reluctantly used both of his friends as crutches to get across the parking lot and through the hospital doors.

Touko-san was sitting in the waiting room when they walked in, and the moment she spotted them she hurried over. 

“Oh dear.” She pressed a hand to Kaname’s forehead, her eyebrows pinched, and she didn’t waste any more time. “Takashi-kun is in room 124.” 

Kaname must’ve looked awful, then. 

Touko-san led them down the hall to what was apparently Natsume’s room— a different one from last time— and ushered the three of them inside.

He’d barely had Natsume in his sights for half a second before the nausea and pain and shaking began to fade away, and Kaname surged forward out of his friends’ supportive arms. It was _such_ a relief to be healthy and clear-headed and back at Natsume’s side that he almost forgot to stop himself before making contact.

Natsume had his eyes— his shining, clear, focused eyes— narrowed at Kaname warily, but at least the bitter, furious fear that had clouded his scent the day before was gone. “Hi, Tanuma.”

“Hi. Natsume.” Kaname said a little breathlessly. The urge to complete the bond was surging back with renewed enthusiasm, but even if it hadn’t been, Natsume was… was— well, still looking sick and pale and hurt, with clean white bandages over the abrasions on his face and arms, and bruises scattered over the remaining visible skin— but. Kaname couldn’t quite call him beautiful, but he certainly wouldn’t have minded just sitting at Natsume’s side to watch him for a while.

His awful, stalkerish alpha tendencies were showing again.

Quietly, Kaname drew back enough to take one of the stools that rested near the foot of Natsume’s bed and just breathed in the low, spiced sweetness of his— temporary— mate’s scent. It warmed him all the way through. Leaning against the bed, he let his eyelids slip shut. Even if all Natsume allowed him to do was rest there and stave off the sickness, it would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me @ my characters: WILL YOU STOP GETTING SICK FOR 5 SECONDS?????
> 
> You can try and scream at me on [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/), but I give no guarantees bc I have no idea how that hellsite works--
> 
> (Also broke 50,000 words, which,,,,, what am i doing with my life)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my precious dumpster fam ^_^
> 
> I wasn't thinking when I was writing, so anyway Taki has been officially converted to another transfer student bc using a transfer student to introduce a new character is the oldest trope in the book.

Takashi could only remember bits and pieces of the trip back from the cave and to the hospital, but it was enough to know he had Taki-san, Tanuma, Hinoe, and Nyanko Sensei to thank for his still being alive and mostly whole.

His vision was still a little dim, his skin was still stinging under the bandages, and his torso ached, but it really wasn’t any worse than the outcomes of a dozen other youkai encounters. Which was strange, because when the stich-mouthed youkai had been beating him up, Takashi had been doubtful he’d get out with his life. Had Hinoe done something to heal him? Or… Tanuma?

Takashi only kept one ear on Nishimura’s suspiciously shaky reprimand on his latest deadly stint in the woods. Instead, Takashi’s attention fell on Tanuma, who appeared to be asleep at the foot of his bed.

The steady pull that had been rippling down the bond since Takashi had woken up from the anesthesia had vanished the moment Tanuma burst into the room. He’d been cautious, but Tanuma hadn’t done anything, or said anything, really, so Takashi relaxed a little. Tentatively, he plucked at the mating bond. It was a strange feeling— almost tangible in his mind’s eye, but an invisible weight through every inch of his body.

The force of his pluck echoed down and back, returning with a vague sense of contentment that must’ve been Tanuma’s. Entirely without his permission, a distant and usually well-suppressed corner of Takashi’s brain perked up at the feeling, but he mentally slammed the bond shut before his useless omega instincts could get him into trouble again.

In his chair, Tanuma jolted awake, staring wildly around until his eyes caught on Takashi’s. Feeling unreasonably guilty, Takashi looked away.

“You guys good?” Nishimura stopped his rant to ask, gaze flicking between them both.

“Yeah.” Tanuma said after a moment. “I just. Need to use the bathroom. Excuse me.”

Takashi had an apology on the tip of his tongue, but Tanuma was out the door before he could work up the motivation to say it.

A brief silence descended over the whole room.

“Did you know,” Nishimura said, almost conversationally, “that mates, particularly true mates, actually heal faster when they’re together?”

Takashi was pretty sure Tanuma had mentioned that at some point before convincing him to close the bond. The pain had made it hard to remember.

“And did you _also_ know that you and Tanuma are true mates?” Nishimura continued.

Kitamoto sighed somewhere in the background, but Takashi barely heard it. Of course he knew. A little too well. He blinked up at Nishimura.

Nishimura stared back at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Okay, so the point I’m trying to make here is that, just in case it wasn’t clear, Tanuma made you close the bond so you could heal. And you have every right to be angry about that, but, like, I hope you won’t take it out on Tanuma, because he was trying to help you, and as your mutual friend, I want you both in one piece until we can work something out.”

“I… know that.” The facts hadn’t quite connected themselves in Takashi’s head until that moment, but it wasn’t a surprise. “It’s okay. Tanuma said he would break the bond as soon as I’m better.”

Nishimura sucked in a sharp breath, and the Fujiwara’s twin looks of concern deepened.

“Yeah, about that,” Nishimura said.

Takashi’s heart sank. “Yes?”

“True mate bonds aren’t really meant to be broken. At all. And they’re definitely not meant to be kept apart like this. We’re talking at least one of you could potentially die if you try and separate.”

“…So you mean…” Takashi whispered.

“Like I told Tanuma, we’ll all help the two of you work something out if need be, but you can’t break the bond.” Nishimura said solemnly.

Takashi wanted to panic, but all he could manage was a vague sense of resignation. He’d recognized it from the moment the bond had settled. Of course he was destined to be mated, no matter how hard he’d tried to avoid it. A least Tanuma didn’t seem to be anywhere near as cruel as some of the alphas that Takashi had… met in the past. This would just be another thing to carefully balance into his life.

“We won’t let you deal with this alone this time,” Kitamoto said quietly, a wry smile on his lips. “We’re going to meddle. But I promise Sacchan and I’ll do better.”

“We’re your family now, Takashi-kun,” Touko-san said, smoothing a gentle thumb over the uninjured half of Takashi’s forehead. “Please, let us help.”

With everyone taking their turn at bafflingly gentle reassurances for Takashi’s latest mistake, it only felt right to also glance at the window, where a strange, shimmering mass that was almost certainly Nyanko Sensei bared a shockingly visible set of teeth in a wide grin.

No matter what he did, or how much he was costing his friends and family, they never seemed to get tired of him. They’d proved themselves again and again, refused to conform to his expectations, and now it was just Takashi being the one unable to accept their goodwill. He wasn’t so sure he could do that right away. But he trusted Touko-san’s gentle hands and Shigeru-san’s quiet voice and Nishimura’s cheerful patience and Kitamoto’s solid calm and Nyanko Sensei’s grouchy protectiveness and Taki-san’s sincere enthusiasm— and her willingness to keep his secret. And Tanuma… he wasn’t quite sure yet. But Takashi trusted them. For their sake, he’d try.

\--~~--

Satoru wasn’t quite sure what had happened— maybe he’d actually managed to say something good?— but after his little speech about true mate bonds and subsequent explanation of Tanuma’s bondsickness, it was like a switch had been flicked.

Natsume had gone quiet and thoughtful, which in itself wasn’t anything strange, but it still felt different. Soft instead sharp and defensive, maybe. His faint scent had faded from the sour and musty tang of unhappy fear to something a little calmer and more fragrant. The smell reminded Satoru of the savory stew broth his grandmother made with half the herbs in the spice cabinet; and while it was definitely an odd scent for an omega, he was hardly complaining.

When Tanuma returned from his trip to the bathroom— which Satoru would’ve bet his life’s savings was just an excuse to escape Natsume— he tried to move his chair to the corner of the room, out of Natsume’s line of sight. But instead of just watching with his usual uneasy distance, Natsume stopped Tanuma with a quick shake of his head. The subsequent desperate hope so blatant on Tanuma’s face made all of Satoru’s protective omega instincts surge to life in an instant, but he refrained from offering his comfort. Right now, the only person who could help Tanuma was Natsume. His mate.

Their whole group, all six of them, stayed in the room with Natsume while doctors and nurses bustled in and out with tests and clipboards and prodding fingers. Natsume was clearly uncomfortable, but of course he never said a thing.

Fortunately, it didn’t last long. To Satoru’s surprise and delight, Kimura Sensei came in around lunchtime and, with a slightly wondering look on her face, announced that Natsume was ready to go, on the condition that he once again took it easy at home. Satoru restrained himself from leaping at Natsume with an enthusiastic hug.

In the end, they decided to have Satoru, Acchan, Tanuma, and Taki-san (who Satoru had never seen before but had somehow become one of Natsume’s best friends in about five days?) help Natsume out into the front garden to wait while the Fujiwaras finished up at the front desk.

Satoru watched— or maybe hovered— as Taki-san helped Natsume gingerly settle down on a bench. He rushed in to support Natsume’s back when his friend slumped, breathing a little harder than any healthy person should be after sitting down. Still. Satoru hadn’t heard _all_ the details of Natsume’s condition, but he knew it had been _bad_. The power of true mate healing was honestly amazing.

When the Fujiwaras emerged at last, Satoru frowned to see the crease of Touko-san’s eyebrows and the way Shigeru-san was rubbing soothing circles over her neck gland as they went.

“Is there something wrong?” Satoru blurted out the second they were close enough. And yep, there was Acchan, radiating disapproval without ever using his scent.

“No, no. Just a few things to consider for Natsume’s recovery that we’ll talk about later,” Shigeru-san said reassuringly. He rested his hand on Satoru’s shoulder for a moment and lowered his voice. “Thank you for worrying about Takashi-kun, and for taking care of him when we couldn’t.”

Satoru could feel an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. “Oh, well. He’s my friend.”

Shigeru-san only smiled. “Shall we go? I’m certainly ready to get back home.”

There was a general murmur of agreement, and Satoru nodded fervently. “Please, let’s. Natsume, no more hospitals for a good long time, you hear?”

The moment the chiding words were out of his mouth, Satoru had a moment of panicked regret. But when he turned to look, Natsume was smiling, a tiny thing that barely ticked up the corners of his mouth, but a smile nonetheless. 

“I’ll do my best.”

\--

Between Natsume’s remaining injuries and Tanuma’s lingering bondsickness, the walk and ride back the Fujiwara home was slow. Satoru wanted nothing more than to push the two of them together; make them sit in Natsume’s nest or something until they were both healed. Their bond was clearly meant to be strong, so probably wouldn’t even take a day. But no.

What would it take, he wondered, to smooth over the scars of Natsume’s past? Was there anything besides proving to him that his family loved him, his friends wanted him, and that alpha and omega mates were meant to protect and heal, not control and suffer? Time was working its magic, but Natsume’s recovery was still so _slow_ , and Satoru ached for him.

Taki-san split from their group early, leaning in close to Natsume to exchange a few private words before jogging off with a bright smile and a wave. She seemed like a stereotypical beta— pretty, for sure, but without a dramatic scent or wild instincts. Satoru wondered how she and Natsume had met. He watched her go, and when he turned back, he was startled to see unshed tears shining in Natsume’s eyes.

“Natsume? Are you—”

But Natsume shook his head with an oddly soft expression before Satoru could even finish his whispered question, so he let it be.

Once they reached the Fujiwara’s house, they ran into a bit of a logistical problem. Tanuma couldn’t go far from Natsume’s side without his symptoms instantly becoming crippling, but Satoru and Atsushi had also promised to have him back home (and with his dad) within the day. This was solved with a quick phone call by Touko-san, because, well. Who could resist Touko-san? She even invited Tanuma’s dad over to check on Tanuma for himself, but she’d apparently won him over, because he declined and said he’d call again in the morning.

Shortly after, Satoru realized he had to go back to his own house soon if he didn’t want to suffer the wrath of his parents— something he tried to avoid at all costs— so, reluctantly, he said his goodbyes. A brief hug and pat on the back for Tanuma, a long hug and shameless neck scenting with Acchan, and a short but sweet brush of wrist glands with Natsume.

“I’ll be back tomorrow as soon as I can,” he informed the room in general and Natsume in particular. “Sleep well!”

Satoru kept his steps light all the way to the door, but the moment he was outside, he slumped. He wasn’t even near the cold, distant air of his house yet, but he already missed the warmth of the Fujiwara home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhh what am i even doing
> 
> Find possible updates on the nonsense on my [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a wild few days hasn't it? SPN confirmed both gay and homophobic, that one BNHA update that out-trended the election, and Biden confirmed president elect all in a row?? I have whiplash.
> 
> Anyway here's something nice and fluffy to distract from all the madness in the world. Stay safe out there, everyone!

Atsushi knew what was going through Sacchan’s head, even as his friend grinned and practically skipped his way out the door. Satoru’s parents and brother never hurt him physically, but… well, Atsushi had never seen Sacchan spend any more time there than he had to.

He hated letting Sacchan go home alone with every fiber of his being, but he also had to be practical: there wasn’t anything he could do for Sacchan’s problem, not yet, but he probably could make a difference for Natsume and Tanuma. So he stayed.

It hadn’t escaped his notice that Natsume was suddenly making an active attempt to keep Tanuma close by, or at least closer than he’d allowed before. On the way home, he and Tanuma had been side by side, their slow, pained steps moving in time. When Touko-san ushered them all into the living room with snacks and tea, Natsume settled down on a cushion on the same side of the table as Tanuma. When Atsushi thought about it, they somehow did seem like mates, if only because they were both looked the same amount of wan and sick and tired. Dinner was short, but Natsume still managed to get in several quiet requests specifically to Tanuma to pass food or utensils.

It wasn’t much, but it gave Atsushi some hope. Especially since… well, he had no way to know for sure, but— Natsume was an omega long past presentation age who’d been suffering the effects of injury and Repression Syndrome that were finally wearing off. It didn’t take a genius to guess what would come next.

Shigeru-san pulled Natsume out of the room for a short minute, apparently to make sleeping arrangements, before Natsume returned and silently led Atsushi and Tanuma up to his room.

Atsushi was privately thrilled to see the nesting things he and Satoru had given Natsume pressed deep into the nest, looking soft and well-worn.

“So, how are we going to do this?” He asked after a moment. The only obvious bed in the room was Natsume’s nest.

Natsume looked up at him, opened his mouth. Blinked. Closed it.

Atsushi rephrased his question. “Would you like Tanuma and I to sleep in your nest or out on the floor? I’m sure the Fujiwaras have some extra futons if need be.”

“I…” Natsume said slowly, just as hesitant as the last time they’d tried this. “I want you. Kitamoto.” He couldn’t seem to lift his eyes from the ground, and Atsushi could see the tips of his ears flushing red. He waited patiently through Natsume’s stumbling. “And Tanuma needs to… to stay close. But I know two alphas don’t…”

It was generally true that alphas didn’t like to share territory when they didn’t have to, but at this point, it was hardly as if Atsushi or Tanuma were normal alphas. Atsushi shared a glance with him, and Tanuma nodded firmly.

“If you’re okay with it, sharing isn’t a problem for us,” Atsushi shrugged, projecting as much casual calm as he could, even though he knew Natsume still couldn’t smell him.

“Then… yes,” Natsume said, barely above a whisper.

It was still pretty awkward. Natsume smelled of bitter anxiety and barely said anything as they shuffled between bedroom and bathroom, Tanuma and Atsushi changing into borrowed clothes and getting ready to sleep.

“Are you feeling any better, Tanuma?” Atsushi asked quietly as they passed in the hall. Between Tanuma’s pale, drawn face and dull scent, he was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but better to ask anyway, right?

“I’m fine,” Tanuma said with a smile that looked a lot more like a grimace. He was just as big a liar as Natsume was, then.

Atsushi made sure to keep an even closer eye on them both.

Natsume was the first one in the nest, curled stiffly against one wall and watching Atsushi and Tanuma with shadowed eyes. Even though their nap from the day they’d built the nest had proved that three people could fit in it, that had only been with Atsushi cuddling Sacchan pretty closely. And Tanuma was definitely bigger than Sacchan. No matter how they arranged themselves, it was going to be weird. Oh well.

Atsushi squared his shoulders and delicately stepped into the nest. He was prepared to try and figure out the best way to ask Natsume who he was more comfortable being squashed up against, but to his surprise, Natsume actually grabbed his hand to tug him down. That answered that question, he supposed.

Cautiously, giving Natsume plenty of time to react with every movement, Atsushi nudged Natsume until he turned over, then pulled him close as the little spoon. Natsume’s injuries made it tricky to figure out where to settle his limbs, but Atsushi eventually just tucked his legs behind Natsume’s and laid his arm loosely over Natsume’s hip. He settled his chin on Natsume’s shoulder, away from the scent gland but still close enough to give the illusion of a scenting motion. It was supposed to make omegas feel calm and safe—Sacchan certainly liked it—but then, Natsume seemed to fear just about everything that was meant to make omegas feel good. Atsushi hoped he wasn’t overstepping. But Natsume only made a few tiny adjustments, then stilled and released a long, slow breath. His scent shifted to something sweet and vaguely cinnamon, and Atsushi felt something in his chest pull tight at the sight of his friend finally relaxed.

After a moment, he looked up at Tanuma semi-apologetically. It was Natsume’s choice, but it still felt pretty rude to be cuddled up with someone else’s mate right in front of them. But Tanuma was smiling at them with an expression so tender that _Atsushi_ felt his heart give a little extra _thu-thump_. If he’d had any lingering doubts that Tanuma wouldn’t take care of Natsume, they were gone now.

With a little jerk of his head, Atsushi urged Tanuma into the nest as well. Tanuma turned the overhead light off, then wasted no time in lying down at Atsushi’s back, curving his body only enough to match the curve of the nest wall. He laid an arm across Atsushi’s side with a whispered apology, and Atsushi watched as his fingers barely brushed over one of the folds in Natsume’s over-large pajamas. It was both devastatingly cute and sad at the same time.

Atsushi waited for the other shoe to drop, but after a few minutes of just lying there in the dark, he forcefully released the last of his stiffness. It… wasn’t as bad as he’d been expecting. In fact, it was kind of nice. The sounds of their breathing were soft and peaceful, only ever interrupted by the distant hoots of an owl. Tanuma was surprisingly broad and warm at his back, but not so close as to be overbearing, and Natsume was sweet and trusting under his arm in front. The only thing missing was Sacchan’s familiar presence and scent.

Like that, it was easy for Atsushi to drift off to sleep.

\--~~-- 

Takashi eased into wakefulness slowly. He was warm, and drowsy, and felt well-rested in a way he hadn’t since… well, since he’d napped with Kitamoto and Nishimura after they’d built the nest together. He sighed and curled a little further into the solid bulk behind him. Was Touko-san cooking? The air was rich with flavor, coffee and spices and, oddly enough, a stronger version of the sweet, calming smells that sometimes lingered around the shrines Takashi could safely hide in. Incense, maybe. There were a few buzzing points of pressure low on his side, and the ever-present thrum of the bond was calm and pleased in the back of his mind.

A burst of happiness flooded through his chest, then something else, warm and full and overwhelming, all directed at—

Takashi froze. That wasn’t the nest wall that was so comfortable behind him, it was Kitamoto. The fingers that brushed his side were Tanuma’s. Oh, god, he’d made two _alphas_ share his nest, what had he been thinking?

Instinctively, he scented the air for any signs of their displeasure, even though it was still pointless, but— wait. 

He could smell them. 

Takashi flipped over as fast as he could, earning a surprised grunt from Kitamoto, but he barely heard it as he leaned in as close to Kitamoto’s neck as he dared. It was _his_ scent Takashi had picked up, familiar coffee and cream and the slight burn of spice.

“Natsume, you good?” Kitamoto said, his voice rough with sleep.

Takashi had been dreading the return of his senses for weeks, but now that they were back, it felt so _right_. He took one more dip into Kitamoto’s scent before chasing after the second, far more enticing one. Pushing himself up on his hands, Takashi followed his nose over Kitamoto’s shoulder— and met Tanuma’s startled eyes.

Oh.

Takashi inhaled long and slow, dizzy with the musky sweetness of Tanuma’s scent, of citrus and sandalwood and honey. He’d thought Nishimura’s sugary scent was good, but _this_ … it was all Takashi could do not to bury his face in the crook Tanuma’s neck to just breathe it in.

Kitamoto was suddenly scrambling out from underneath him, and it distracted Takashi enough to let him tear his eyes—and nose—away from Tanuma. And then Takashi was stumbling back too. What was he doing? Just following a good scent like— like Aoba-san had so long ago, when she’d ended up hurting and small and _nothing_ under her alpha’s thumb.

Strong arms circled Takashi from the back, and he lashed out, but they held tight.

“Shh, it’s okay Natsume, just breathe,” Kitamoto murmured in his ear. Only then did Takashi realize he was hyperventilating. He tried to follow Kitamoto’s instructions, but just ended up coughing uncontrollably instead.

“’M sorry,” he managed to choke out.

The one of the arms lifted and was exchanged for Kitamoto’s light fingers in his hair. “It’s okay, Natsume. Just follow me. Take your time.”

Slowly, the darkness that had been creeping in on the edges of Takashi’s vision began to recede, and he inhaled shakily. His heart still felt as if it was thumping fast enough for a heart attack, but at least he could breathe now. Takashi looked up.

Tanuma was out of the nest, standing sort of hunched and awkward in the middle of the room and watching Takashi intently. Kitamoto was just outside the nest wall, hugging Takashi from the back and still humming soft, nonsensical comforts into his ear. And—oh. Nyanko Sensei was perched on the windowsill, watching them all with piercing golden eyes. Faintly, Takashi wondered when he’d gotten there.

Even though he’d backed off, Tanuma’s scent was still overpowering in Takashi’s nose, and the nest seemed to be thoroughly infused with both alphas’ pheromones. Takashi hadn’t even thought about that when he’d invited them in. He’d been getting used to being a Blank.

With a soft exhale that came out embarrassingly close to a whine, Takashi plucked at Kitamoto’s arm until he let go of Takashi’s torso and allowed his wrist to be lifted to Takashi’s nose. Takashi liked Kitamoto’s scent—not delicate, but still mild and pleasant, without the heavy tang of musk that warned him of _power_ and _threat threat threat_. Kitamoto made a strange noise but never tried to pull away, and his scent only got brighter. So, pressing his nose alongside Kitamoto’s wrist gland, Takashi just breathed and tried to let the comfort of coffee and spice block out the overwhelming smoke and incense and unhappiness that was now Tanuma’s scent.

Takashi’s omegan instincts were purring with satisfaction, and he didn’t dare to think about what he was doing any more than that.

After a minute or so, when Takashi’s heartrate finally begin to slow and his muscles were relaxing, Nyanko hopped off his perch and yowled insistently, circling Tanuma’s ankles.

Takashi sighed, cautiously lowering Kitamoto’s arm and taking a split-second glance up at his face. He looked— content. Because of Takashi?

“Sensei, are you hungry again?”

Nyanko Sensei trotted over, leapt into the nest, and meowed directly in Takashi’s face.

“Are you always going to do this when I have friends over?” The _and I have panic attacks_ went unsaid.

Nyanko managed to look smug and genuinely pleased at the same time. Really, what would Takashi do without him at this point? 

Tanuma’s unnervingly enticing scent still hung heavy in the air, but Takashi was able to brush it off this time, and gently close off the thrumming bond. He had a youkai to feed.

\--~~--

After a quiet breakfast, during which Kaname tried to reconcile how good he felt now with how little contact he’d actually had with Natsume, they relocated Natsume to the living room to address his injuries. But when the bandages and plasters started coming off, Kaname could only stare. What had just a couple of days before been bloody, weeping wounds and swathes of bruised flesh was now smooth skin, clean and pink, with little more than a few tiny white speckle and line scars to show for it. Natsume seemed to be stunned too, paying Kaname no attention even when he leaned into Natsume’s space for a closer look.

In the end, and after a call to Kimura Sensei, they took off everything but the heavy wrap around Natsume’s ankle and the dressing around his neck. Kaname had a sneaking suspicion he was the only one who could see the exact shape of the bruise that curved around Natsume’s nape, or else nobody thought it was strange that he’d apparently been grabbed by a giant hand.

Kaname had thought he’d feel better looking at Natsume without the numerous bandages to cover wounds that no longer existed. And he did— but it was almost worse now, in an entirely different way. Now that Natsume didn’t look fragile and hurt, there was nothing stopping Kaname’s brain from diving whole-heartedly back into fantasies of what it would be like to truly have Natsume as his mate. Nothing to stop him from wanting to touch, to pull his mate close and… his eyes lingered on Natsume’s lips for a moment before he physically shook himself. He wasn’t that far out of control. He couldn’t be.

Kaname determinedly stopped looking directly into Natsume’s face after that.

When Nishimura finally arrived at the Fujiwara’s, it was with Taki-san right behind him.

“Hi,” she greeted them all, a little shyly. “Sorry, I didn’t say I was coming today, but I hope it’s alright.”

“Any friend of Takashi-kun’s is welcome here,” Touko-san said cheerfully.

“You’re okay?” Natsume asked out of the blue when Taki-san got close enough.

She seemed surprised, but only for a moment. “I’m all good! It’s really gone.”

Natsume gave an obvious sigh of relief. Kaname squinted a little. Something youkai-related, perhaps?

“Oh,” Taki-san said suddenly as she settled down at Natsume’s side. Her voice lowered. “You never corrected me.”

Natsume ducked his head and his hands spasmed shut. “No… I’m sorry. You just assumed, and I… it’s always better when I don’t tell people.”

She rested a light hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Natsume, I understand. Really, it’s on me for not noticing.”

And now they weren’t talking about youkai. Probably. Kanama glanced at Kitamoto and Nishimura in turn, but only got shrugs back. Whatever it was though, it seemed to relax Natsume a little, because he slowly leaned against Taki-san’s side until his head was propped on her shoulder. Taki-san stayed upright and unbothered, so Kaname tried not to worry about it.

With everyone together at last and Touko and Shigeru-san politely unobtrusive just a room away, something in the air changed, loosened.

“Aw man, this has been enough excitement for the whole summer and it’s only been, like, three days,” Nishimura huffed, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his hands.

Kitamoto laughed a little and began ticking off on his hands. “Finding out Tanuma and Natsume are true mates, then finals, then Natsume vanishes on us to pick up Taki-san, then Tanuma has to go rescue Natsume and bonds with him, then bondsickness, and now we’re here… yeah, that’s more than enough.”

When he put it like that… “Let’s have a _really_ boring summer from here on out,” Kaname agreed.

There was a moment of comfortable, lazy, quiet.

“Y’know, I’m pretty sure there’s gonna be a festival up by the temples next weekend. You up for that, Natsume?” Nishimura asked, sounding and definitely smelling as if he was trying not to hope too much.

Natsume traced absentminded fingers down the healed skin of his arm. “I think so. I don’t know about my ankle yet, though.”

Nishimura brightened, his scent fizzing and popping with sweetness. “So you’ll go? We can totally get you a crutch or something if that’s a problem.”

A small, slow smile crept over Natsume’s face. “Yeah. I’ll go.”

“Yes!” Nishimura latched onto Kitamoto’s arm, tilting his head until his cheek was pressed close to Kitamoto’s scent gland and he was looking up through his lashes. “You’ll take us yukata shopping, won’t you?” 

Kitamoto sighed longsufferingly, but his scent was warm, and, well… it smelled a bit strange and didn’t have any of the usual indicators of emotion in it, not to Kaname anyway, but it was still nice to have floating freely though the room. Kaname watched Natsume take a deep inhale and relax a little further. Between this morning and now, Kaname tried not to be jealous that Natsume seemed to like Kitamoto’s scent more.

After a moment, Nishimura looked up and waved a careless hand. “You’re all invited as well, of course.”

“Of course,” Kaname echoed with a smile while Taki-san giggled.

Ponta, who’d been sitting in a lump by Natsume’s legs, suddenly perked up and gave his strange, fake meow. Natsume popped up from Taki-san’s shoulder attentively.

The next second, Shigeru-san opened the door and poked his head inside. 

“Sorry,” he said apologetically, “but we need to borrow Takashi-kun for a minute.”

Natsume got up without a word, and after a disturbingly sharp, narrow-eyed look at Natsume’s retreating back, Ponta followed him out.

Kaname glanced around their little circle—now short the person they had all come for—but Nishimura just shrugged and, with the sort of grace Kaname could only hope to ever possess, launched into a story of his plans for the summer.

Shigeru-san had looked oddly serious; and so had Natsume and Ponta for that matter. Kaname hoped it was nothing. Natsume had already suffered enough for a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...eheh
> 
> Find me on [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am once again out of buffer chapters, so the probability of me having another chap ready next weekend is up in the air, especially since I have (yet another) big essay this week  
> Either way, I hope this bit of angst and fluff will tide you over ^_^
> 
> (Also 700 kudos what)

A high-pitched buzzing echoed off the empty corners of Takashi’s mind, and his thoughts ran slow and dull. Heat. He was going into heat.

It was like whiplash; innocuously sitting there in front of an anxious Shigeru-san when just moments ago he’d been so _happy_ , breathing in his friends’ soft, comfortable scents. He’d felt safe even when resting loose and unfocused against a human’s side, listening to Tanuma’s low voice and watching his peaceful body language, wondering and wondering.

But now…

Takashi slowly curled his hands into fists, nails scratching thin white scuffs into the tabletop as he went, scuffs that he no longer feared the Fujiwaras would punish him for. “How—” he swallowed hard. “How much longer?”

Touko-san leaned in a little, but didn’t make any move to touch Takashi, which he was grateful for. “Mino Sensei said he couldn’t give an exact time frame, but he expects it to start in two or three days at the latest.”

“Oh.” That was _nothing_. And now that he had Tanuma— omegas had to spend heats with their alphas if they were mated, or else it would be _agony_. He’d watched enough of his foster families and bonded schoolmates to know that much.

“Takashi-kun,” Touko-san drew his attention gently, “we’ve been prepared for this for a while now. It’s a natural thing, and natural to be worried. We’re not going to leave you to deal with it alone.”

Takashi nodded mutely, but her words barely registered. How was he going to protect himself if he could no longer be mistaken as a beta? What would he turn into, when his fully-presented omegean instincts were in control? It was bad enough now. And… he’d never actually seen a fellow omega in heat, but cruelly whispered conversations in school halls and muffled tears behind closed doors told Takashi he could expect to be sick and desperate and _humiliated_.

He’d rather face a hundred of his worst youkai nightmares than let his new friends see him like that.

“We know you have your nest now, but please tell us if there’s anything else you want in preparation. Anything at all.” Shigeru-san was saying.

“And Takashi-kun, I know you’re not entirely comfortable with the idea, but it might be worth spending a small portion of your heat with Tanuma-kun close by. Having your mate near will help with any symptoms, and it should keep his bondsickness from worsening,” Touko-san murmured.

Takashi hadn’t thought it was possible, but his heart sank a little further. In the horror of the moment, he’d somehow managed to forget about Tanuma’s needs. Aside from staying within range of each other to stave off the bondsickness, Takashi had no idea how to serve an alpha he was mated to. Between them, the bond thrummed golden and strong, almost mocking. Reaching to slam down a barrier to crush his end, Takashi hesitated. Tanuma… no matter how hard he was making Takashi’s life now, it wasn’t entirely his fault, and he hadn’t been anything like most of Takashi’s previous experiences with alphas. He didn’t deserve that.

Lightening his touch at the last second, Takashi delicately closed off his end of the bond, startling when a knot of worry that had been buzzing in the back of his mind abruptly vanished. So Tanuma really was in his head every time Takashi wasn’t actively blocking him out. Was it the same on Tanuma’s end?

Touko-san was still watching him carefully.

“Yes. I… understand.” Takashi said quietly.

She didn’t look entirely satisfied, still smelled sour with concern; but she leaned back all the same.

In a daze, Takashi limped his way back down the suddenly mile-long hall, grounded only by the familiar patter and jingle of Nyanko Sensei at his heels. He could feel Nyanko’s sharp gaze pinning the side of his head, and felt like he should say something, anything— but couldn’t bring himself to speak. The next moment, they were in the living room and it was too late.

“You’re back!” Nishimura greeted brightly. “What—” His grin abruptly twisted to a look of fear, and he and Tanuma leapt to their feet at the same time.

“Natsume, you— are you okay?” Nishimura’s hands fluttered just inches away from touching Takashi’s skin.

Tanuma was frozen halfway across the room, his scent twisting with a hundred different smells, none of them good. And yet, Takashi’s inner omega was keening for him. 

He _couldn’t_.

Tearing his senses away from Tanuma, Takashi instead locked on to the most comforting scent in the room. He took the one step forward, all he needed to close the distance, and all but collapsed into Nishimura’s arms. Nishimura let out a surprised grunt but managed to clasp his hands around Takashi’s back and hold him upright.

With a tiny whimper, Takashi tentatively nosed his way along Nishimura’s shoulder, exposed by the wide collar of his t-shirt, until he reached the scent gland. He tucked his face into the crook of Nishimura’s neck and breathed in slow. Spun sugar and soft, warm caramel invaded Takashi’s senses, even as he gave up on the hope of maintaining even a shred of respect around his friends. When had he become so reckless, so… _needy_? Maybe his heat was starting already.

Whatever Nishimura was thinking of Takashi in that moment, he kept it to himself, which Takashi was pathetically grateful for. When Nishimura tugged him down, Takashi went bonelessly, reluctantly lifting his head from Nishimura’s shoulder just long enough for them to shift to a more comfortable position. He ended up essentially sitting in Nishimura’s lap, legs sticking out to the side and twisting his upper body enough to keep his scenting at Nishimura’s neck. Takashi felt Nishimura’s surprisingly solid arms wrap around him and he trembled, hands clenching tighter in the hem of Nishimura’s shirt. 

The need for comfort and the desperate urge to flee warred in Takashi’s chest.

Nishimura was making a jumble of soft humming, shushing noises, and his scent was only getting smoother and sweeter—the rare smell of a happy omega deliberately making themselves vulnerable and trying to offer comfort. It barely made sense to Takashi, that Nishimura wasn’t angry or disappointed or even distant, but he tucked himself a little closer against Nishimura’s body anyway.

“So we’re cuddling, then?” Kitamoto’s voice came from over Nishimura’s shoulder, calm and lightly curious.

“I guess so,” Nishimura said airily. He tilted back into Takashi and lowered his voice. “Is this okay?”

His hand landed in Takashi’s hair a moment later, and Takashi leaned into the soft touch, nodding soundlessly.

“In that case, don’t mind if I do,” Kitamoto said as he settled down, back against Nishimura’s side and legs astride Takashi’s. He met Takashi’s eyes for an instant, then slowly laid his hand on Takashi’s calf, just above where the ankle wrap ended. 

It was… good. He hadn’t flinched. His skin wasn’t burning.

“I want in too,” Taki-san said cheerfully. She shuffled over behind Nishimura, then laid down, curving her body slightly around his until her legs were poking out on the left, the same side as Takashi’s, and her head was propped on her arms over a pillow at Takashi’s hip. He looked down at her nervously, and she shot him a momentary grin before… snuggling into the pillow, close enough to Takashi’s side that he could feel the heat, and closing her eyes.

“Join us, Tanuma,” Nishimura said, patting one of the few spots of ground he could still reach, surrounded by people as he was.

Tanuma took a small step forward. “Ah… where am I going to sit?”

“Hmm…” 

Takashi felt the vibration of the sound through his cheek.

“Natsume, you mind if Tanuma sits in front of you?” Nishimura asked, his hand pausing in the stroking of Takashi’s hair.

Starting a little, Takashi glanced first up at him, then around to Tanuma. It would be fine. Tanuma hadn’t done anything besides using his voice once to help Takashi, hadn’t even shown signs of _wanting_ to do anything. And… Nishimura and Kitamoto and Taki-san would protect him. “I don’t mind.”

“Awesome!” Nishimura crowed. “Come fit in around Taki-san somehow.”

Takashi’s gaze followed Tanuma as he sat down, and he was just in time to catch Taki-san’s brow crinkling up. 

“Ew,” she said, “just call me Taki, please.”

“Sure thing, Taki,” Nishimura winked. Takashi took a moment to admire his total lack of hesitance.

“Is this okay, uh—Taki?” Tanuma asked, and Takashi refocused on him.

He was lying down with his _back_ toward Takashi, his neck exposed, his hands tucked safely out of sight against his body. Stunned at such a display of trust and vulnerability from an _alpha_ , Takashi forgot to react even when Tanuma scooted in enough to press the small of his back against the side of Takashi’s thigh and hip.

Their bond crackled with tiny sparks, even though the touch was still through clothes, and Takashi couldn’t stop the barest whisper of a gasp. Hesitantly, he lowered his mental barriers just enough to pick up on Tanuma’s deep contentment and realized a fragment of his own wonder was slipping out in return.

“Oh,” Tanuma said breathily. 

Nishimura shifted a little to give him a curious look, but didn’t say anything. The five of them rested together in peaceful silence for a while, their scents mixing in the air and growing warmer and sweeter with every passing minute. With a faint flash of amusement, Takashi realized that, when they were all together like this— with Kitamoto’s coffee, and Nishimura’s sugar, and Tanuma’s smoky honey, and Taki’s old books— they smelled almost like a café.

Takashi knew his own scent was back now, but being unpresented, he was pretty sure it didn’t have any specific undertones yet. He could only hope it was anywhere near as nice as his friends’.

A displeased mrowl and Tanuma’s sudden grunt made Takashi lift his head from Nishimura’s shoulder one more time, and he watched as Nyanko Sensei finished climbing over Tanuma’s head and onto Takashi’s lap.

“Sensei,” Takashi murmured, suddenly sleepy.

“Meow.”

Kitamoto had taken up rubbing him thumb in small circles over Takashi’s leg, Nishimura’s scent was still pleased and comforting, Taki had leaned in enough to actually prop her head against Takashi’s hip, and Tanuma’s satisfaction hummed warmly though the bond. Every self-preservation instinct in Takashi’s body should’ve been screaming, but instead he was pretty sure this was the safest he’d ever been in his life. Slowly freeing one hand from Nishimura’s shirt, Takashi dropped it lightly on Tanuma’s thigh.

It had never been easier to fall asleep.

\--~~--

Through the bond, Kaname could feel the exact moment Natsume drifted off—when the barrier between their minds dropped fully and a cooling flood of relief and peace eased the remaining tension in Kaname’s body. The touch of Natsume’s fingers over his leg had already been such a sweet sign of trust, and this new sensation was almost too much. His breath hitched and he resisted the urge to roll over.

“Oh my god, Tanuma, are you okay?” Came Nishimura’s startled whisper.

Kaname blinked in momentary confusion, and was surprised to feel trails of wetness trickle down across his nose and cheek. “Oh. Yeah, I’m…” 

Was he fine? It seemed inadequate to describe the tangle of feelings in his chest. Taki reached out to give his head a friendly pat, and no one asked anything else.

After a few more minutes, Nishimura made a mildly frustrated grunt. “I love Natsume very much and I’m glad he was comfy enough fall asleep, but also my legs are going numb. I don’t wanna wake him up though.”

Kaname turned his head enough to watch Nishimura’s crinkled brow and Kitamoto’s critical look.

“Where would you move him?” Kitamoto asked.

Nishimura frowned. “I dunno. Probably his head in my lap would be easiest, but that’s a long way to go from my shoulder.”

Kaname listened for a moment to the steady, muffled thrum of bond. “I don’t think Natsume’s going to wake up even if you move him,” he offered, “he’s pretty far gone.”

“Huh,” Nishimura said with clear interest. He shook himself. “Not the time. Well, I guess you’d have the best idea. Scoot over, Acchan.”

Kitamoto did as asked, and Nishimura eased Natsume down, straightening out his legs and rolling him over a little as he did so.

A faint thread of confused unhappiness leaked across the bond, and without thinking, Kaname laid a hand over Natsume arm to send soft reassurances through the connection. The dark thread faded, and Kaname sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Tanuma,” Nishimura sent him a quick grin. “Hey, while we’re at it, bring all those pillows over here. It’ll be more comfortable.”

Kaname barely had a second to realize what he’d just done without Natsume’s permission, let alone feel any horror about it, before he was being pulled in a makeshift nest of gathered pillows and sprawling limbs.

“That’s much better,” Nishimura sighed, leaning back against Kitamoto. Kaname could only stare at the soft domesticity of it all— the typically reserved Kitamoto freely scenting against Nishimura’s shoulder, Taki’s hand stroking through Natsume’s hair, and his own leg inexplicably flung atop Natsume’s in the rearranging. Everyone’s scents permeated the air, but Kaname’s nose seemed particularly attuned to Natsume’s faint cinnamon and spice. Of course. Natsume wasn’t even presented yet and he still smelled like mate and comfort and _home_.

Nishimura had relaxed against Kitamoto’s back, eyes closed and breathing slow, so Kaname startled when he suddenly spoke. “Tanuma, Taki… what _really_ happened?”

The air soured quickly. There was no point in pretending they didn’t know what he was talking about. Still, Tanuma found himself exchanging a helpless glance with Taki, to see if she had any better plans.

“Was it an alpha? Because if it was, I might be an omega, but I have two years of judo and a whole lot of righteous anger under my belt,” he added.

“No, no,” Taki said with a tiny huff of a laugh. Kaname wondered what was funny. “It’s nothing like that.”

Nishimura squinted. “Then what? Somehow, even though Acchan and I have known Natsume way longer, you seem to know stuff we don’t.” The words were somewhere between accusing and genuinely concerned.

“I… heard rumors. At school,” Kaname said with anther nervous glance at Taki. “And I kind of forced Natsume’s hand. And Taki… I don’t know how Taki found out. But it’s still supposed to be Natsume’s story to tell.”

“Uh huh.” Nishimura said. “So I’m just supposed to sit here and keep watching Natsume get hurt and keep secrets that are apparently so bad that he’s been, uh, _ostracized_ from regular society?”

“Sacchan,” Kitamoto said chidingly.

Taki laughed again, a dry, shaky thing. Nishimura quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, it’s not that funny, really. I’m just glad Natsume has so many people to worry about him the same way.”

“…Right. So?”

The last question seemed to fall to the floor among them, ponderous and looming. 

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Touko-san,” Taki said at last. “Not only is it Natsume’s secret to tell, but it could also be dangerous for the two of you as well, if you knew. But…” her eyes drifted to where Natsume’s head was pillowed comfortably on Nishimura’s lap. “I think he sees you a little differently than he sees the Fujiwaras. He might tell you, if you ask the right way.”

Nishimura and Kitamoto were both frowning, with the exact same crinkle between their eyebrows and their scents tinged with the same tang of confusion. It was cute, and if Kaname’s mind hadn’t been so occupied by Natsume and the dangers of the current conversation, he probably would’ve said so.

“And what _is_ the right way to ask?” Nishimura said slowly.

Taki shrugged helplessly. “I wish I knew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check for delays and excuses for delays on my [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so late OTL  
> I've been really stressed lately with some family trouble, but I'm still trying to get as much writing done as I can because it's also sort of an escape for me.  
> Anyway, I didn't edit this chap as much as I normally do, so if you guys see any funky mistakes, feel free to let me know >.>

Eventually, Nishimura’s legs started falling asleep for a second time, so Tooru helped hoist Natsume up enough to carry him to his bedroom. The whole time, Tanuma kept his fingertips against the bare skin of Natsume’s arm, his eyes glazed over, looking into a place the rest of them would never see.

Once Natsume had been settled in the nest, they played jan ken pon for cuddle rights. Tooru gleefully came out on top, and settled across from Kitamoto with Natsume and Fluffy Nyanko in between. Outside the nest, Nishimura and Tanuma were sending truly devastating puppy-eyed looks their way, a situation made funnier when she considered that Tanuma probably wasn’t even doing his intentionally.

Still, with the incredible power of two omegas’ happy, content pheromones—even if one of them was unpresented and also asleep— it was easy to relax once more. Conversation drifted quietly and aimlessly from topic to topic. Tanuma was far funnier than Tooru’s serious introduction to him had suggested, even though a good bit of his humor was blunt and accidental. He was oddly passive for an alpha, especially for one who had, by his own admission, been raised a privileged only-child. Kitamoto wasn’t especially talkative, but what he did say suggested steady devotion and a sharp mind. He moved in tandem with Nishimura, and Tooru had to keep checking to reassure herself that, no, they weren’t actually mated. Nishimura led most of the conversation and might’ve looked a bit shallow, except that no matter how enthusiastic he got, he never raised his voice enough to risk waking Natsume, and he displayed an easy familiarity of knowledge about Kitamoto and Natsume. Clearly, his friends were a priority in his life.

“How _did_ you meet Natsume anyway?” Nishimura asked curiously. “He was helping you with something, right?”

Tooru hesitated. “It’s… related to the thing I can’t tell you.”

“Seriously?” Nishimura threw his head back with a sigh.

“I was in danger; I had been for a while. Then I found out Natsume might be able to help me, and by that point I had nothing to lose, so… I did,” she tried to explain.

“The same danger that landed Natsume in the hospital, I assume?”

Tooru winced. “Essentially. His circumstances are a little different that mine, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have gotten out of it alive.”

“Wow.”

There was a lingering moment of silence while Nishimura processed. “Should I be more worried? There’s something you guys can’t talk about that’s apparently running around trying to _murder_ us.”

“…It’s more of a ‘the more you know, the more danger you’re in’ kind of thing,” Tanuma offered. “Unless you get really unlucky like Taki, you’re probably safe.”

“Why am I not reassured,” Kitamoto muttered, and Nishimura barked out a laugh.

“If I had to guess…” Tooru ventured, “Natsume’s probably already protecting you two.”

“Really?” Nishimura said, eyes widening a fraction.

“I’d have to ask him to be sure,” she shrugged, “but I have a hard time imagining being friends with Natsume for that long and never running into _something_ that could hurt you.”

“…You sure you can’t tell us what it is?” Nishimura said at last.

Tooru shook her head regretfully.

“Oh!” Tanuma startled up from where he’d been slouched, leaning on his own arms. “Natsume’s waking up.”

All heads immediately swiveled to Natsume just as his eyelids fluttered and a tiny, unhappy huff escaped his lips. When his eyes fully opened, they slowly focused, first on Tooru, then on Kitamoto, and finally down at Nyanko.

Without warning, Natsume shot to sitting, his eyes blown wide and flickering restlessly over the room. Nyanko had tumbled unceremoniously off Natsume’s chest, but instead looking disgruntled, he was clearly tense, nose tilted to the ceiling and the slits of his eyes glinting.

“Natsume?” Tooru asked, heart already sinking.

“Sensei?” Natsume’s voice was breathless, shaking. “I—I can’t see—”

“What’s wrong?” Nishimura hissed.

Tooru opened her mouth to—what _would_ she have said? But it didn’t matter when a thin gasp from Tanuma promptly yanked her attention away. He was collapsed on his knees, hunched over with one hand fisted in the fabric over his heart, but somehow, every line of his body was still straining unfailingly toward Natsume.

“He’s… panicking…” Tanuma wheezed. “Natsume, please…”

Scrambling to escape the once-comfortable tangle of blankets in the nest, Tooru made for Tanuma’s side, only to be stopped by the pinprick pain of Nyanko’s claws in her foot.

“What—?”

“It’s back,” Nyanko growled.

Tooru reeled, first because Nyanko had _spoken_ , and then again because—

Hadn’t Nyanko killed it? The number marks were gone, the game was over, Natsume had almost lost his life for it! Why couldn’t they escape?

“The cat!—” Nishimura started at what might generously be called a shriek before Kitamoto slapped a hand over his mouth.

Silently, Tooru thanked Kitamoto’s stoicism and leapt out of the nest toward her bag. She hadn’t had a chance to clean it out since the end— or what she’d thought was the end— of the youkai hunt, so maybe—

“It’s here, it’s here, Sensei, _please_ ,”

Natsume’s voice was pitched, his scent burnt and washed out with aching desperation and terror. Tooru moved faster.

Fumbling with the zipper, shaking out the contents of her bag with total abandon, and _yes_ , there they were. The talismans were all crumpled and stained, and, with trembling hands, Tooru struggled to smooth them out enough to read.

“Natsume, move!” Tanuma gave a yell that ended in a cough, and Tooru’s fingers closed around the exorcism charm. She whirled back around even as she realized she had no way of aiming the talisman without Natsume or the circle spell. Her eyes locked with Nyanko’s.

With all her power, Tooru lunged those few precious steps to Nyanko— he snapped the charm out of her hand with his teeth— rocketed forward— and vanished.

Tooru registered the distant sensation of her legs giving out from underneath her and she slumped against the nearby wall. A moment passed, then she watched with alarm as Tanuma suddenly fixed his eyes on a spot of nothing before yelping and tripping over his own limbs trying to back away from the window. Apparently undeterred, he staggered to his feet and _sprinted_ for Natsume, wrapping his arms around him and spinning them around until Tanuma’s back faced the window.

The world exploded.

Tooru didn’t even have time to scream before a rush of wind strong enough to steal the breath from her lungs swept through the room. It ripped at her clothes and whipped her hair painfully around her face, and all she could do was curl up and pray for it to be over. 

It didn’t take long. 

With an audible _pop_ the wind instantly vanished, and a deathly stillness took its place. When Tooru finally dared to open her eyes, she had to take a second to orient herself.

Tiny flakes of paper rained down over their heads, landing with tiny whispers in the hollow silence of the room. The air was even bleached of scent.

“What the hell was that?” Nishimura whispered. He and Kitamoto were frozen in place, awkwardly twisted together as if they’d both tried to shield the other at the same time.

More crushing stillness. Tooru leaned back against the wall, pressing a hand to her chest as she took deep, calming breaths. Nyanko had never reappeared, but whether that meant he was gone or just in his other form she didn’t know. In the middle of the room, Natsume and Tanuma slowly unfolded from each other. Natsume’s hands were clenched low on Tanuma’s shirt, body stiff; but his eyes were huge, brilliant amber, and staring—was rapturously too strong a word?—into Tanuma’s eyes. Tooru couldn’t see Tanuma’s face, but if Natsume’s was any indication… she could guess. Clearly, there would be no help from either of them.

“…Well—” Tooru started uneasily, but a sound from Natsume stunned her back into silence.

“A youkai. It was a youkai,” Natsume said, his gaze slipping from Tanuma’s face and to the ground. His voice was tiny. “Or— or what was left of one, anyway.” He shrank even further into himself, hands fisted so tightly Tooru could see the white of his knuckles.

“A youkai. Like an… invisible spirit?” Kitamoto asked, almost blankly.

Natsume gave a miniscule twitch of a nod.

Nishimura and Kitamoto turned to look at each other, and in that moment, Tooru could see a hundred puzzle pieces clicking together in their heads.

With a thoughtful bob of his head, Nishimura returned his attention to Natsume. “Makes sense.”

Natsume’s eyes snapped up.

Nishimura’s grin was as unfailing as ever. “Tell us more.”

\--~~--

So… apparently youkai—youkai!—were really a thing, just a part of the world that Satoru couldn’t see. And yet, with every trembling word that escaped Natsume’s mouth, Satoru found himself feeling less and less surprised. It felt crazy to even think it, but Natsume’s stories made _sense_.

From the way Acchan was placidly nodding along to each explanation, he’d probably suspected a lot more a lot sooner than Satoru had. He’d be more upset that Acchan hadn’t shared, but then, would he have even believed it? Acchan had a pass this time.

Throughout the entire tale—which Satoru strongly suspected had been abridged to hell for their sake—Tanuma sat at Natsume’s side with a hand on his lower back, generally doing his best impression of a bodyguard. Satoru had no idea what had changed in the hot second between when Natsume had woken up and the end of the… youkai attack, but since Natsume seemed to welcome his mate’s touch, Satoru was hardly going to complain.

“You know what,” Satoru realized during one of the lulls in conversation, “how did the Fujiwaras not hear any of that?”

“…We weren’t actually that loud,” Natsume said quietly. “And not everyone can hear the sounds a youkai makes. Or they hear it differently, at least.”

Satoru frowned. “We could hear it though.”

Natsume gave a tiny shrug. “It could be because you were in the room, or because the youkai wanted to scare you, or because you were near me or Nyanko… I don’t know how it all works.”

“Weird.” Satoru decided. “But I guess I’m not complaining.”

He looked around the room, finally taking it all in. Despite the massive rush of wind earlier, the room was as immaculate as it had been when they’d arrived. More proof for Natsume’s words, as if they needed it.

“So… you really believe me?” 

Satoru snapped his gaze back to Natsume and tried to convey every ounce of his honesty into an earnest nod. “Of course. It makes sense! And… I can’t see you lying to us about something as important as this.”

Natsume’s face shuttered. “I did lie to you, though. All the time.”

“That’s a bit different,” Acchan offered. “You didn’t know us that well at first, so you were protecting yourself. And then we never asked directly, so it was easier for you to simply deflect.” He paused. “I see now why you said it was dangerous for us, by the way. But when it got to the point that we were in more danger not knowing about the youkai, you did tell us. I’m glad you trust us enough.”

Natsume flushed, his scent twisting into a strange cocktail of sweet happiness and pricking shame.

“What now, then?” Satoru said at last. “There’s nothing to clean up, the Fujiwaras didn’t hear anything, and none of us are hurt. Do we just… go back to normal life?”

An awful, bitter smile pulled at Natsume’s mouth. “This is normal life.”

Satoru contemplated that for a moment. To face near-death all the time in a way most people never did, and to never expect assistance because anyone who happened to be around was more likely to hurt than help. Well. The second one, at least, was hopefully over for Natsume.

“You’re really impressive, Natsume,” was what finally came out of Satoru’s mouth. “To go through everything that you did and come out this strong… I want to think I could do it, but I honestly don’t know.”

Natsume bent his head, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge Satoru’s speech. Oh well. They’d work on accepting compliments later. 

“I’m just waiting for Nyanko Sensei to come back. But if he doesn’t, then… I have to start preparing for—for heat.” The last word was so quiet that Satoru could barely hear it.

“Oh, Natsume.” Tentatively, Satoru crawled closer until he could wrap Natsume his both his arms and scent. “The universe just isn’t giving you a break, huh?”

Natsume huff of laughter sounded more like a sob.

“Well, at least you’ve got me,” Satoru decided, “and it’s not like any us would let you suffer anything that doesn’t naturally come with first heat.”

“…Will it hurt?” Natsume murmured, pressing his nose to Satoru’s collarbone.

Satoru wrinkled his nose. “Depends. My first heat kind of sucked, but that was because my family wouldn’t help me and wouldn’t let Acchan come over until the third day. But I wasn’t bonded, so I don’t know what that part will be like. I’ve heard it’s better than going it alone, though.”

“Oh.” Natsume didn’t look comforted, and Satoru winced.

“But we’re not making you go through it alone!” He rushed to add, “and I can give you tips on stuff I wished I’d had. Besides Acchan, obviously.”

“Let’s do that now,” Tanuma spoke up suddenly. “The preparations, I mean.”

Tanuma looked as if he was about to add more, but had changed his mind at the last second. An odd light flashed in Natsume’s eyes, and Satoru wondered if they were communicating across the bond.

“Sure,” he said instead of letting every curious question spill past his lips. “It shouldn’t take long. And maybe your cat will be back by then!”

(Satoru was never getting over the cat.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I perhaps... see an end for my fic???
> 
> Watch me be a disaster on [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)  
>  ~~I hope the reveal lived up to all y'alls expectations~~


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still the weekend _somewhere_ in the world, right? RIGHT???

Between his glimpse into what he was pretty sure were Tanuma’s innermost thoughts and Nishimura and Kitamoto’s unconditional acceptance of his youkai confession, Takashi found himself still reeling long after the conversation had ended and Nishimura had taken command of heat preparations.

They hadn’t even _hesitated_ , when even youkai sometimes took a longer time to believe that Takashi could see them! Had he not been hiding things as well as he’d hoped? _Probably not_ , Takashi decided almost ruefully. He’d never been the best at lying after all, but in the face of curses and fantastical monsters, people always believed the more realistic explanation. Except, apparently, for his friends.

“Hey Natsume,” Nishmura called, right on cue. “Did you ever get around to scent-marking your room? Besides the nest, I mean.”

Snapping back to the moment, Takashi dropped his head, ashamed.

“I figured not,” Nishimura said breezily, “you didn’t really get a big window of time to do it anyway, Repression Syndrome and all.”

“Should I… do it now?”

“As much as you can, yeah. Since first heat changes your scent, you’re probably gonna want to be totally surrounded by your old scent so you can have something familiar to hold onto.”

“I guess adding other people’s scents would be a bad idea too?” Tanuma said more than asked.

Takashi glanced up at him, studying his tiny head tilt and the crease between his eyebrows. The bond had yet to fully calm down from their moment of unhindered connection, and Takashi could feel Tanuma’s concern and protectiveness, beacon-strong through the link. It had only been for the briefest second, but Takashi had been able to see every corner of Tanuma’s mind, and no matter how many times he doubted and replayed it in his head, he hadn’t been able to find a single shred of malice or disapproval or _hunger_ in Tanuma’s thoughts. Instead, there’d been nothing but…

No. Takashi wouldn’t— _couldn’t_ — think about that yet. He needed some time, or space, or _something_. Processing everything that had happened in the past day was already too much.

“I think it depends on the person,” Nishimura was saying thoughtfully. “It might be different since the two of you are mates. I guess we’ll find out.” He turned toward the nest. “Good thing we did this early, so it’s had a lot of time to pick up scents.”

“I’ll go ask the Fujiwaras if they have snacks ready,” Kitamoto offered, already halfway out the door.

“Let me go with you,” Taki said, bouncing to her feet. “I’m no help for a conversation between omegas, and Touko-san might let me work on the food with her.”

“Ask if they have an ice bucket and towels too!” Nishimura tossed after them. 

The door slid shut and Nishimura slowly spun on one foot, inspecting the room. “You’re going to want everything you’ll need close by. And…” He gave Takashi an apologetic smile and Takashi instantly tensed. “Just to make sure, you’re not expecting anything, uh, _sexual_ , right?”

Takashi’s face was on fire. Of course everyone knew that practically the whole purpose of heats was sex, but even the clinical, detached descriptions of heat from mandatory health classes had always sounded like nothing short of a nightmare to Takashi. Losing control was bad enough, to do it at the mercy of an alpha? He shuddered. “No.”

“Good,” Nishimura said, clapping his hands together. “We won’t have to worry about that, then.”

“…But… what if I…” Takashi started, not even entirely sure how to articulate the problem.

Nishimura’s scent softened. “Intent actually matters a lot. Heat could be a fun time if you wanted, but”— he shrugged— “I never did want it, and I pretty much got what I was expecting out of it. It’s a little different for alphas, I think, which is where a lot of the… problems… come in. When an alpha wants it, but the omega doesn’t, you know.”

The bond, which had been flooded with embarrassment just moments ago, plunged into a dark fury so strong it made Takashi gasp. The scent of Tanuma’s anger burned Takashi’s nose a second later.

“That’s not an excuse,” Tanuma growled.

Nishimura gave him an unreadable look. “Of course not. I’m glad you think so.”

Takashi looked between them both and shivered.

Thankfully, Nishimura clapped his hands together, moving on as if nothing had happened. “Natsume, you should pick out your coolest, comfiest clothes too. Unless you think you’ll want something with a different scent on it. Maybe one of the Fujiwaras?”

Takashi thought about the crisp freshness of Touko-san’s scent and the heavy earthiness of Shigeru-san’s, but somehow, he couldn’t picture wanting either of those so close as to wear. He shook his head.

“Good, good.” Nishimura said, just as Kitamoto stepped back into the room.

He gave Nishimura a brief thumbs-up. “Taki stayed with Touko-san in the kitchen, but they’ve been all set for a while now.”

Looking extraordinarily pleased, Nishimura nodded. “Of course they have. Well then, that’s about all I can do for now… Natsume, you want us in the room while you finished scent-marking it, or nah?”

Takashi let his eyes flicker around the room and cringed. “No, thank you.”

“Sure thing! We’ll get out of your hair, call us when you’re done.” Nishimura flashed him a grin, then strolled out of the room without looking back. 

Kitamoto scooped up his bag and started following Nishimura out, pausing at the door just long enough to add, “Or call us if anything comes up, really.” 

Then he was gone, and without really meaning to, Takashi locked eyes with Tanuma. Something large and urgent was pressing against the bond from Tanuma’s side, but whatever it was, he also wasn’t letting it go through.

The corner of Tanuma’s mouth twitched up in a half-smile. “I… I’m sorry about earlier. I wasn’t really thinking about anything other than protecting you from that… thing. I’ll be more careful next time.” With a small nod, he turned toward the door.

“Wait! I—”

With a startled blink, Tanuma turned, and Takashi froze with his hand still partially outstretched. “Um.” He took a deep breath. “…Stay. With me.”

Hands awkwardly folding together in front of him, Tanuma took a few shuffling steps back toward Takashi. “Are you sure?”

Oh god, what was he doing? Takashi tried to still his shaking hands as he managed a tiny nod. If Tanuma was still acting like this, then he probably hadn’t gotten the same glimpse that Takashi had into his thoughts, but Takashi wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. At least it gave him the time to figure out his feelings in the privacy of his own mind.

With one last useless glance toward the window and its entirely Nyanko-free view, Takashi moved on.

\--

It wasn’t even a minute before Takashi was regretting asking Tanuma to stay. In theory, he knew how to scent-mark, but… well, if there were a competition for being a proper omega, Takashi would be losing in just about every category. The things he’d seen in Tanuma’s mind were comforting, but Takashi still couldn’t help a twinge of fear at the thought of Tanuma being… disappointed.

“Natsume? Are you okay?”

Tanuma’s voice reminded Takashi that he’d just been staring blankly at the edge of his desk, uncertain of how to start. _Losing in every category_.

“Do you… know how to do this?” Takashi asked helplessly.

There was an incredulous pause. “You’ve never scent-marked before? But your room already had…”

Takashi flinched.

Lifting a hand up to comb through his hair (which really only messed it up further), Tanuma’s face flickered through a dozen different expressions before finally settling on something that looked like pity. Or maybe resignation. When his scent rose a moment later, dark and vaguely piney, Takashi was no closer to figuring it out.

“I have, before,” Takashi was compelled to say. A brief memory of Nishimura’s frowning face flashed through his mind. “Just, not much. Not… enough.”

“I see.” Tanuma’s head was turned away just enough to put his eyes in shadow. After a moment, his shoulders squared, and he walked to Takashi’s side. “I’m probably not the best person for this, but I’ll help you as much as I can.”

Slowly, telegraphing every movement, Tanuma reached out and grasped Takashi’s limp hand. When he tugged, Takashi followed without a fight, his fingers warm and tingling.

“You should start with something comfortable,” Tanuma said, gesturing at the Takashi’s nest. “I probably shouldn’t demonstrate this one though.”

“But…” Takashi started, “I already did my nest.”

“Well, yeah. But it’s a good warm-up, I guess. A task you know how to do, so you don’t have to start awkwardly scenting your windowsill or something.” Tanuma’s face scrunched in a way that suggested he was speaking from experience. “I don’t have a nest, obviously, but… close enough.”

It felt like a waste to be starting on the one thing he’d already properly scent-marked, but Takashi _had_ asked for advice. Cautiously, he stepped halfway in, then paused, looking back at Tanuma’s hand still clasped around his.

“Sorry.” Tanuma ducked his head and let go, turning until his back faced the nest. By the time Takashi had settled inside, Tanuma was leaning against the nest wall, his shoulders loose and head tilted back, looking about as unthreatening as an alpha ever could. A few moments later, the deliciously warm citrus and honey scent that had so enticed Takashi that morning began filtering through the room, no question about its source. Takashi took a tiny, shuddering breath, then a larger one, forcing his lungs to work, to trust an alpha. To trust his _mate_.

Closing his eyes, Takashi unfolded himself into the soft layers of his nest. He rolled over—and that felt right—so he nudged his cheek in the blankets as well, breathing in the comforting nothingness of his own scent next to the overpowering musk that formed Tanuma’s. Suddenly, it was easy to roll again, to fold back on his knees and press his hands out before him, sliding over the fluffy comforter that covered the nest floor. In some hazy, satisfied corner of his brain, Takashi wondered if this was how cats felt when settling into a warm patch of sunlight. Normal cats, anyway. He doubted Nyanko Sensei was a good example.

Stretching out as far the nest walls would allow, his limbs trembling with the force of it, Takashi brushed his fingers over what parts of the nest’s edges he could reach, before unwinding with a slow sigh. He curled up again, feeling loose and content with the indulgence of one of his instincts. A vague, fond amusement tingled in the back of his mind, but Takashi was too relaxed to contemplate it.

“Natsume,” called a low, familiar voice. Takashi lifted his head, and oh, that was Tanuma. Of course. A strong hand landed lightly on Takashi’s arm, sending electric trails over his skin. Right, they were supposed to be working.

Takashi didn’t protest when Tanuma helped him up and out of the nest, and leaned into his sturdy warmth once he realized it was simpler than standing on his own. The simmering amusement mixed with something dangerously close to wonder, and Takashi locked that away with all the other things he couldn’t let himself linger on.

It was almost like watching himself through a window, but instead of being in a prison, he was curled up with hot tea and blankets and the smell of citrus and cinnamon while staring into a clean, white snowfall outside. Takashi felt no urge to force himself back into high alert, which should have been alarming on its own, but…

With gentle nudges, Tanuma was guiding him around the room, pointing out good places to scent-mark and occasionally even adding a smudge of his own. His touches were loose, maybe even lazy, but still left lingering spots of heat where they landed on Takashi’s bare skin. When had that gone from terrifying to… comforting?

Eventually, though, the routine had to end, and Takashi dragged himself back to full awareness with a shiver as Tanuma led him toward the nest.

“Natsume?” Tanuma asked, a faint thread of concern twining down the bond. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if I…”

“No,” Takashi breathed in. Breathed out. “That was… thank you.” And he turned inward just enough to slowly wrap his arms around Tanuma’s shoulders. No matter how much his instincts were screaming at him, Takashi couldn’t quite bring himself to scent at Tanuma’s neck again, but Tanuma didn’t seem to mind.

They stood there for a while, silently soaking the other’s presence in, letting the bond pulse soft and open between them. Finally, Takashi pulled back, and when he let his mind replace the barrier it had been maintaining since day one, he caught the briefest flicker of disappointment on Tanuma’s face. Before he could even think about panicking though, Tanuma was back to smiling, wide and delighted. 

“I… know that was for you,” he said, scratching the back of his head a little, “but it helped me too. I feel a lot better, now.”

Takashi was about to overflow with the rising tide of all the feelings he couldn’t name, questions he couldn’t ask, and instincts he couldn’t silence; and in the end all he could say was “Good.”

“We should call everyone else back, huh.”

Takashi dared to let himself lean against Tanuma’s chest, and let a smile creep over his face. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I top my own self-indulgence with every chapter.  
> Join me and my tropes on [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where's that one tumblr post like-  
> IT'S THE FINALS COUNTDOWN  
> *off key kazoo*
> 
> So yeah, I'll be busy for Hell Week, dunno if there will be a new chapter, but keep an eye out anyway lol.

When Nishimura, Kitamoto, and Taki returned upstairs at Tanuma’s summons, Takashi couldn’t stop a yelp when he saw Nyanko Sensei with them, held at arm’s length by a highly disturbed-looking Nishimura. Nyanko was limp and scowling ferociously. Taki was clearly muffling laughter.

“You’re back!” Takashi reached out the moment Nishimura came close enough, and Nyanko leapt into his arms without hesitation.

“This _brat_ ,” Sensei hissed, dramatically pointing a stubby paw back at Nishimura.

“This creepy cat,” Nishimura responded, sticking his tongue out. Behind him, Kitamoto released a heavy sigh.

“…They’ve been at it for a while, then?” Tanuma asked lightly.

Nobody answered—verbally, anyway—but the roll of Kitamoto’s eyes was all they they needed.

With one last huff at Nyanko Sensei, Nishimura turned, surveying the room and delicately scenting the air. “Much better.”

Takashi sighed with relief.

“Hmm… the Fujiwaras have pretty much everything else ready, and they’ll bring it up once your heat starts. You just have to pick whoever you want to stick around for the duration. What else… oh!” Nishimura snapped his fingers. “Tanuma, Touko-san said to tell you that your dad is coming over for dinner.”

“My dad?” Tanuma repeated, his eyes wide.

“Yeah. Since you still can’t go home, he probably wants to make sure you’re okay.”

“Right. Yeah.” Tanuma’s face scrunched slightly, and his scent turned sort of tangy, but Takashi couldn’t parse out the exact emotion.

“Also,” Nyanko Sensei grumbled from his perch in Takashi’s arms. “I called for some… help. Just in case the shade comes back.”

Nishimura pressed a hand to his chest and heaved a gasp. “Does the talking cat ever get less shocking?”

In the background, Tanuma shrugged, but Takashi was mostly focused on Nyanko. “Is that what it was? A shade? No, wait, what do you mean, _help_?”

“Yes, yes, a shade, a remnant of spiritual power so angry it literally comes back to life. I didn’t bother looking for one when I killed the ayakashi before, because… well, nevermind. And by help—”

“NATSUME-DONO!” Trumpeted two very familiar voices from outside the window.

Takashi whipped around, then startled again when he realized he could see with perfect clarity. “You called the Dog’s Circle? And my Sight is—”

“Oh good,” Nyanko said, nonchalantly licking at a paw. “That probably means the shade is dead. And you should be more grateful, brat. I had to deal with Hinoe for you.”

Right on cue, Takashi’s gaze caught on the vibrantly purple kimono, and Hinoe gave a lazy wave when their eyes met. A second later, Misuzu plunged from the sky with his usual crash of wind and bells, only to take up an absurd perch atop the small rooftop of their neighbor’s house.

“Oh.” It was almost all of the strongest youkai Takashi saw on any regular basis. “Thanks, Sensei.”

“Is there something out there?” Tanuma asked neutrally, but the curiosity Takashi could feel flickering down the bond gave him away. Taki wasn’t even bothering to hide her interest, peering out the window, unable to see the chuukyuu laughing and making an assortment of strange faces right behind the glass.

Takashi looked around at all the open, trusting expressions on his friends’ faces and took a deep breath. “Yeah. Um. Sensei brought some friends to protect us from the shade.”

“You have youkai friends,” Nishimura whispered, wide-eyed. “That’s so cool.”

“Do you think they’d step onto one of my circles if you asked?” Taki wondered aloud, gaze sharpening.

“Well…” Takashi said slowly, glancing out the window again. “You already saw Hinoe out in the forest, I assume. And the others…” He watched as the chuukyuu’s face-pulling competition quickly descended into grotesque and Misuzu arranged his enormous, looming body more comfortably on the roof. “It’s probably better if you don’t see them.”

“Aww.” Taki’s pout only lasted a moment before she turned back from the window to give Nyanko a vaguely stunned look. “That was nice of you, Fluffy Nyanko.”

“Hmph.”

\--

Eventually, Kitamoto was forced to leave when he decided he shouldn’t stay away from his family for more than a day. When Kitamoto suggested that he and Nishimura leave together, Nishimura insisted he’d be fine going home alone again, but the argument sounded weak even to Takashi’s ears. A long, loaded stare passed between the two of them, and in the end, Nishimura caved. That left just Taki, Tanuma, and Takashi, a girl who’d spent a year mute and pushing away all her friends, a boy who’d spent more of his childhood sick and home-bound than in school, and a freak who’d never stayed anywhere longer than a year after his parents had died. Once Nishimura and Kitamoto were out the door, they all turned to look at each other simultaneously, and Takashi didn’t even need to check their scents to feel the vague, oncoming panic of needing to do _something_ but not quite knowing what.

Still, it was nice to feel it around _friends_ , for once.

Thankfully, Touko-san swooped in to save the three of them from their own social ineptitude, ushering them into the kitchen to show Takashi—and Tanuma—the preparations for his heat. It wasn’t long after that that Tanuma’s dad made his appearance. Takashi couldn’t stop himself from taking stolen, curious glances at the golden shimmer of a youkai that draped harmlessly over the man’s shoulders.

Tanuma was clearly happy to see his dad after a few days apart, and Taki’s interest in things traditional-and-possibly-supernatural was apparently not limited to just youkai, so Takashi readily relinquished control of the conversation to them. Then, halfway through everyone’s second serving at dinner, Takashi felt a nauseous twinge kick up in his gut. His heart sank with it.

“I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” he murmured, pushing away from the table and speed-walking for the door. He wasn’t fast enough to miss Tanuma’s worried look, though.

Takashi hunched next to the toilet for a while, but the nausea never worsened and nothing threatened to come back up, so he reluctantly rinsed his hands and returned to the kitchen.

“Takashi-kun?” Touko-san gently prompted as he sat down. 

“I… don’t know.”

A few careful glances were exchanged, but when Takashi picked up his chopsticks again and didn’t spontaneously burst into flame or something equally dramatic, they all carried on.

Takashi grimly held himself together for the rest of the meal, refusing to give up his dish duty to Shigeru-san, and accepting a cup of tea when it came time for post-dinner conversation. But when he could feel sweat begin to prickle over his skin, when his breath started coming in shorter and shorter gasps, and when Tanuma’s concerned glances turned to waves of anxiety through the bond, Takashi was forced to give in.

As it was, if Shigeru-san hadn’t been there to catch him, both Takashi and his teacup would’ve crashed to the floor.

He groaned when Shigeru-san fully lifted him, one arm behind his knees and the other supporting his head. Shigeru-san shushed Takashi gently.

“I’m just taking you up to your nest for now,” he murmured.

Takashi really didn’t care where Shigeru-san took him, as long as it was away from the burning gazes of everyone else in the room. The last thing he saw before being carried around the corner was Tanuma being pulled aside by his dad, a strange look on his face.

Latching onto Shigeru-san’s comfortingly neutral old-wood scent, Takashi realized his nose was noticeably more sensitive, maybe even back to the level it had been at before the Repression Syndrome symptoms had started. Was it just because of his heat?

When his back finally hit the bottom of his nest, Takashi nearly gasped with relief. He grasped the nearest blanket, tucking it up against his chest along with his hands and burying his nose into his own scent. Fire was licking across his skin and his throat felt dry and raspy. The fabric of his clothes suddenly felt like scratchy thorns, the pressure point at his nape was aching, and something, there was something wrong, something _missing_ —

“Takashi-kun, do you need help changing your clothes?”

It hadn’t even occurred to Takashi that that was an option, but this must have been why Nishimura was so insistent upon having soft clothes nearby. For the briefest second, Takashi thought about saying no and avoiding the humiliation of being undressed. But when he moved to answer, sandpaper dragged over his skin again and all that came out was a strangled “please.”

Shigeru-san helped him sit—slump, really—against the nest wall, before nudging Takashi to raise his arms and tugging off his shirt in one swift, painless move. Thankfully, he was willing to wait patiently while Takashi struggled with the button and zipper of his own pants, only reaching out once Takashi had mostly pushed the fabric down around his legs. 

Shigeru-san had just brought over the stack of pajamas Takashi had set aside earlier when there was a soft rap at the door. Takashi jolted, hard, but there was nowhere for him to hide now.

“Takashi-kun? Shigeru?” Touko-san called.

Hands never pausing in their methodical unfolding, Shigeru-san calmly met Takashi’s eyes, then answered without looking away from his task. “Give us another minute, Touko.”

There was a muffled clink and rustle, presumably Touko-san settling down to wait, and Shigeru-san reclaimed Takashi’s attention with an insistent tap on the leg. Still trying to squash down his own blinding panic and Tanuma’s reciprocal worry through the bond, Takashi mechanically lifted one leg, then the other, pulling the waistband of the pants up to his hips when Shigeru-san offered it to him. The material was still too rough, but it was… better. And infinitely better than lying there in nothing but his boxers. But when Takashi felt the first scrape of a shirtsleeve against his arm, his body rebelled.

“No, that— that’s enough,” he stumbled over the words, curling back up into the soft safety of his nest. Cool air rippled over the bare skin of his torso, and he shivered even through the burning heat in his body.

“Alright,” Shigeru-san murmured. His hand dropped into Takashi’s hair, ruffling it for a moment before drawing back. “Touko, we’re ready.”

The door snapped open right away, and Nyanko came bounding in with a sound that was more growl than meow. Touko-san followed at a more sedate pace.

“Nyankichi wanted to see you,” she shrugged. “I swear that cat acts more like a dog sometimes. But it’s certainly nice that the two of you are friends.”

From his place in Takashi’s lap, Nyanko Sensei hissed, but not so loud that Touko-san would be able to hear him. Takashi lifted a shaky hand to stroke over the short, soft fur between his ears. In the background, Touko and Shigeru-san were quietly murmuring and clattering about, setting up the numerous things they had prepared for Takashi’s heat.

Normally, Takashi would’ve paid more attention to the obviously important proceedings, but he was too busy with the fire under his skin and the sweat that prickled at his hair line. It was so _hot_. He squirmed and rolled back down until he was lying on his side in the bottom of the nest, Nyanko rearranging himself in the curve of Takashi’s stomach.

A moment later, an ice-cold cloth landed over Takashi’s temple and part of his forehead, a stark contrast from the burning heat, and he yelped.

“I’m sorry, Takashi-kun,” Touko-san said, achingly gentle. She smoothed her hand over the cloth, then down Takashi’s arm, and he pressed into the touch. Even through the pain, he wondered again at how much had changed, that he welcomed the touch instead of running from it.

“Takashi-kun, we want to see Tanuma-san off, will you be alright by yourself? Just for a minute.” Shigeru-san said quietly.

Takashi struggled to lift his head. “But… Tanuma’s staying?”

“Yes, Tanuma-kun will most likely be staying the duration of your heat, since his bondsickness has yet to resolve itself. Did you want him to stay?” Touko-san’s eyebrows pinched, just slightly.

_Did_ he want Tanuma to stay? Tanuma had been nothing but good to him since the day he’d rescued Takashi, but there was still that lingering pit of fear in the back of Takashi’s mind that balked at the thought of letting an alpha so close when he would probably barely even be coherent. Ruthlessly, Takashi squashed that corner of his brain back. He’d promised himself he’d trust his family, even if he couldn’t fully trust Tanuma yet. It was time to make good on that promise, for both of their sakes.

So, Takashi nodded, and dropped his head back down to the soft pillows with a rush of relief. Even lifting his head was exhausting now. “I’m fine.”

“We’ll be right back,” Touko-san promised, and she and Shigeru-san hurried from the room.

A moment passed.

“You smell awful.” Nyanko grunted from his place tucked into Takashi’s side.

He didn’t have the strength to put up his usual argument. “’M sorry.”

Nyanko Sensei opened one luminous eye in a move that could possibly be interpreted as surprise. “…Humans are so inefficient.”

“Mm.”

“You better hurry up and finish this ‘heat’, I can see I won’t be getting any good food until it’s over.”

“…Thanks, Sensei,” Takashi sighed, trying in vain to burrow just a little deeper into the familiar smells and softness of his nest.

Nyanko gave an extraordinarily put-upon sigh. “Just sleep already.”

\--

By the time Touko and Shigeru returned, Takashi was already lost in restless, fever-muddled dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'd just like to say I read and adore every comment that I get, you guys are amazing, and I literally can't believe my writing is even the semblance of popular that it is. <3  
> Find me crying on [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I'm still alive!
> 
> .....please don't kill me
> 
> Also 850 kudos and on the second page of NatsuYuu fics?????????????????????????????

There was a hand on Takashi’s shoulder, a searing brand of a touch that had him crying out and desperately trying to roll away. The hand retracted almost immediately, but the fire remained, and the ache of it refused to let Takashi sleep again.

Slowly, he cracked open sand-gritted eyes and tried to make out the shadow hovering at his side. The scent reached him before his eyes could adjust, and Takashi allowed himself to relax a little when he realized it was just Shigeru-san.

“I’m sorry, Takashi-kun,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

Takashi breathed a tiny whine as he made another futile attempt to get comfortable. “S’ so _hot_.”

Silently, Shigeru-san reached over, and Takashi startled when a fresh icy cloth landed on his forehead. An involuntary shudder rattled through his whole body, but the cold was a relief. It just wasn’t _enough_.

“I need… need…” Takashi didn’t even know what he was trying to say. “I don’ like heat.”

Shigeru-san gave a sort of sad, muffled laugh. “I can tell.” He adjusted the cloth and combed his fingers through Takashi’s hair. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as the hand on his shoulder, and the touch never reached his nape, so he allowed it.

“It’s not too much longer to dawn. Try and get some more rest, Takashi-kun.”

“’Kay,” Takashi mumbled into his pillows. With the ever-increasing itch and burn across his skin, he hadn’t thought sleep would be possible, but eventually his eyelids began to sag, and it was a relief to let unconsciousness pull him under.

\--

When he woke next, with much less pain this time, it was Touko-san who kept watch over him and his nest.

“Takashi-kun!” She exclaimed when she saw him staring blankly up at her. “Are you feeling any better?”

Was he? The incessant itching that had occupied most of his thoughts the night before seemed to be gone, except for when he shifted and the fabrics of his blankets and clothes scraped over his skin. But in its place was a bone-deep _emptiness_ , the kind that usually only dragged at him on bad days (days that seemed so far away now) when youkai chased him through the dark and his foster families scolded him for coming back late.

But even this was a little different, if just as painful. It wasn’t the ache of hurt and rejection, it was a hollow of something missing, something lost.

Gritting his teeth, Takashi tugged at the emptiness, following the trail down through his mind until he bumped into the gently pulsing mate bond. The thread of Tanuma’s emotion— no, his _presence_ — was faded and grey, a far cry from the blindingly vibrant connection that had filled every corner of Takashi’s awareness the day before.

If there was anything Takashi had ever been sure of in his life, it was that _this_ was what he was missing.

Touko-san was still watching him with worry in her eyes, and Takashi had to answer. He swallowed hard.

“Hurts.” He hesitated, and the emptiness gave another yank, fire licking just beneath his skin, ready to escape at any moment. “I… I want Tanuma.”

“Tanuma-kun?” Touko-san echoed, surprise flickering over her face. “Of course. I think he’s still asleep, but I’ll send Shigeru to check.”

She went to the door and quietly called down the hall. After Shigeru-san’s inaudible reply, she returned to Takashi’s side, pausing with her hand hovering just over his.

“Shigeru told me what happened last night… is this okay?”

Takashi hadn’t quite realized until that exact moment how much he’d missed her gentle touch, but the memory of pain made him wary. Slowly, he nodded.

The first brush of Touko-san’s fingertips made the flames under his skin flicker a little, and Takashi breathed out a hiss of a pain, but when the rest of her hand settled over his wrist, nothing else happened. And when her thumb began smoothing up and down a portion of his forearm, he found himself hyper-focused on the sensation, the heat and pain fading into the background of the calming touch.

“You should drink a little,” Touko-san murmured, and Takashi willingly followed as she nudged him into a more upright position. The rim of a cup touched his lips, and he drank, tastebuds bursting with the almost violent flavor of orange juice. Still, it was nice to chase away the fuzzy, sticky texture inside his mouth, and he finished half the cup before pushing it away.

“Thank you, Takashi-kun,” Touko-san said as she helped him curl up again in the bottom of the nest. “I was getting a little worried.”

“A li—little,” Takashi tried to huff out, and where on earth was his filter?

But Touko-san actually laughed. “You’re right. Thank you for putting up with all my fretting.”

Takashi shook his head, already rolling over and nudging a sleeping Nyanko into the curve of his body. He pulled his limbs in close against the emptiness that hollowed out his chest. “S’ nice. You’re the first one who’s done that for me.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Well, luckily for us, I’m quite good at it, hm?”

“Mm,” Takashi whispered, already more focused on the fresh wave of heat creeping up from his core. “You’re… you’re good.”

A tiny, choked sob a second later made Takashi’s eyes fly back open, and he caught Touko-san’s smile-crinkled eyes as she pressed a hand over her mouth. She leaned in close, over the edge of the nest and all the way down to Takashi’s forehead, and he could only stare helplessly up at her when she pulled away from the gentle kiss she’d placed at his hairline. 

“I love you, Takashi-kun. I’m so glad we got you; that you kept _us_.”

Takashi tried to breathe in, but all of a sudden his pulse was pounding in his ears and his lungs weren’t working right.

“Tanuma-kun should be here in a second. Rest up, okay?”

And with a final squeeze of his wrist, Touko-san gathered her things and padded out of the room as if nothing had happened at all.

\--~~--

Kaname tried to focus on breathing evenly though his mouth as he slowly followed Shigeru-san up to Natsume’s room.

Shortly after the start of Natsume’s heat— when they’d been separated for the night— the bond had rapidly begun to fade, and the bondsickness he’d thought was finally gone had returned with a vengeance not long after. Natsume blocking the connection on his end probably wasn’t helping things either.

Ugh. He just needed to keep his roiling stomach in place until he could reach Natsume. Then the nausea, at least, would be better. 

Doggedly, Kaname took the final steps up to Natsume’s door, pausing behind Shigeru-san. Somehow, the air smelled like cinnamon and savory and…

Natsume.

The moment Shigeru-san stepped aside, Kaname practically leapt forward, inexorably drawn in by Natsume’s perfect scent. He had a moment to panic that he was losing himself to instinct, that he would hurt Natsume instead of help— but no, his thoughts were clear, just filled to bursting with the need to care for his mate.

Undercurrents of Natsume’s misery and simmering fear instantly cut off any part of him that might’ve more than just enjoyed Natsume’s heat scent anyway.

Kaname dropped to his knees beside the nest, and Natsume stared up at him with huge eyes that glowed amber in the low dawn light. His whole expression was shot through with mute shock, and Kaname’s heart plunged when he realized he couldn’t feel any of it through the bond. What could’ve possibly happened between Touko-san leaving and Kaname arriving to make Natsume like this?

“ _Tanuma_ ,” Natsume gasped out, and suddenly Kaname had new priorities.

Barely even registering Shigeru-san’s silent presence in the doorway, Kaname leaned into the nest and stroked a hand through Natsume’s hair— once, then twice— and pulled back. He didn’t really have a plan, could only blindly follow the little motions that just felt right.

“Natsume, please—"

 _Open up the bond,_ he wanted to say, but that would definitely be overreaching, no matter how much he wanted it. This must’ve be the first time since it had formed that the bond was truly silent in Natsume’s head, and if Natsume felt safer like that…

“What’s wrong?” Kaname asked instead, fighting back the urge to return his hands to Natsume’s hair.

“I…” Natsume started at a whisper. They stared at each other for a long, aching moment, and Kaname felt the weight of Natsume’s trust settle over him like a mantle. “I need you in here. With me.”

Kaname almost argued, but between the tug of Natsume’s pain and the sweet smell of heat, even he wasn’t strong enough. “Okay.”

With shaking hands, Kaname reached out and dipped his fingers back in the soft strands of Natsume’s hair. Slowly, he slid one hand lightly down the side of Natsume’s neck and over his shoulder, both of them intent on every inch of movement. 

Natsume’s bare skin was searing, but he still shivered under Kaname’s touch.

Emboldened just enough, Kaname carefully stepped over the nest wall and sank into the ocean of softness that layered the bottom. He took a moment to settle himself, deliberately keeping his focus off of Natsume and trying to make himself as small as possible. When he finally looked up, it was to meet Natsume’s eyes, staring at him from just inches away.

“Tanuma,” Natsume whispered again, and something in Kaname’s chest throbbed.

“I’m here,” he murmured back. It must’ve been a trigger of some kind, because between one breath and the next, Ponta was dislodged and Natsume was in Kaname’s arms, clinging to him like an anchor in a storm and breathing sharp and fast against his collarbone. Kaname didn’t hesitate to tuck an arm beneath Natsume’s head and pull him just a little closer. Heat and electricity sang over his skin at every point of contact and he shuddered at the overwhelming sensation.

They rested there for who knew how long, just absorbing comfort. Natsume’s scent, butter and cinnamon and sugar, melted over Kaname’s senses, and Kaname could feel Natsume’s heartbeat fluttering jackrabbit-fast against his own chest.

Somewhere in the depths of Kaname’s mind, the bond pulsed— weak at first, but growing stronger with every passing second. His breath caught when Natsume’s presence bloomed back into place and filled the void it had left behind, tendrils of warm emotion spreading through Kaname’s consciousness. He welcomed them eagerly, and stretched out his own mind in return.

Gently, he knocked on the mental wall that still surrounded Natsume’s side of the bond, almost-unconsciously running a hand over the bare skin of Natsume’s back as he did so.

Natsume breathed. Pressed his cheek deeper into the crook of Kaname’s throat.

The wall crumbled.

Kaname let Natsume draw him in, slow and hesitant, as they trailed through the hazy shadows of Natsume’s mind to the center of the bond. The thread of Kaname’s alpha found the small, trembling ball of Natsume’s omega, and he growled softly in the back of his throat. Natsume responded with the faintest of whines, and Kaname curled protectively around him, both in the bond and in the nest. With twin gasps they surfaced, and Kaname was overflowing, adoration and impossibly new sprouts of— of _love_ ready to burst from his chest, straining against the inadequate confines of his body.

He couldn’t speak— so instead he bent his head down just enough to press a soft kiss to Natsume’s forehead, hoping it could somehow convey everything he was feeling. In his mind, the bond flared bright and golden and _right_. The bondsickness was a distant memory.

Natsume hiccupped, and Kaname met his shining eyes.

“You…” Natsume breathed. Hesitant fingers lifted and brushed over Kaname’s cheek and jaw and neck. He held very still.

“Touko-san… Touko-san said she loved me,” Natsume choked out. “And now you— I can feel—"

Was that why Natsume had been so stunned when Kaname had first come in? Suddenly desperate, he laid another kiss on Natsume’s forehead. Paused, and pressed one to his temple, then cheek, then nose. “She does,” Kaname whispered into Natsume’s hair. “And… and so do I. And so does Shigeru-san, and Nishimura, and Kitamoto, and even Taki. And I’m so _glad_.”

Natsume gasped out a single sob, face hidden between where his hands were fisted in the fabric of Kaname’s shirt.

“You deserve it, Natsume— you deserve more than this,” Kaname pressed on. “I’m so, so sorry that you had to survive to get here, and that you had to meet me like this. But… I don’t regret getting to have you for a mate for a single second, and I promise, I _promise_ that I’ll take care of you as best I can.” He hesitated. “Maybe it’s a little selfish, at least while everything’s still so new, but… I don’t want you to regret keeping me either.”

Natsume’s shivering, wet gasps echoed in the stillness of the room, and all Kaname could do was hold him close as he watched the sun rise. Shigeru-san must’ve left a long time ago, but Kaname surely hadn’t noticed.

After a while, he let his hands wander, smoothing through Natsume’s hair and down his arm, flattening his palms against the still-burning skin of Natsume’s back and sides, tracing aimless designs over Natsume’s neck and shoulders. It was blissful, drowning in his mate’s touch and trust and richly spiced scent that was rapidly shedding its undertones of bitter pain.

And the dawn scattered golden light across the room as Kaname finally felt Natsume drift away into a deep, easy slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Maybe the next update will be faster OTL
> 
> I may or may not give details of my frequent disappearances on [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to write physical intimacy without accidentally implying anything sexual like   
> 

_Heat_ was not an adequate way to describe what Takashi was feeling right then. 

He was scorching; standing on the surface of the sun. His throat scratched and scraped for water, cramps dug deep into his stomach, and he was sure that even his eyeballs were cooking in his skull. The only traces of respite were Tanuma’s arms and hands, wrapped around Takashi’s torso and splayed over his bare back.

A raspy sob escaped Takashi’s throat against his will, and Tanuma’s arms instantly tightened around him.

“Shh, Natsume. You’re awake, you’re okay. I’m right here.”

Had he been dreaming? Vaguely, Takashi remembered thrashing in fire and desperation, but nightmare and reality had begun to blend into one endless, searing haze.

Tiny gasps broke past Takashi’s unwilling lips whenever the cramps pulled tight or the fever burned brighter under his skin. It was all reminiscent of that first night the Repression Syndrome had really taken hold; different aches, but the same agony. He’d thought he was good with pain— he’d had enough practice, after all— but _this_ —

Without warning, Tanuma pulled Takashi closer into his chest, pressing Takashi’s forehead against his collarbone and fitting his chin over Takashi’s shoulder. Softly, Tanuma began to hum something soothing and chant-like, clearly familiar to him.

Groaning, Takashi leaned into him, drowning in the sound and touch that he had no idea how he’d ever lived without.

A murmur of voices reached Takashi’s ears from outside the door, and a moment later, Nishimura’s sparklingly sweet scent washed over him, cutting through the heavy, comforting layer of Tanuma’s sandalwood and citrus.

“Aw man, Natsume. You’re having a rough time, huh?” 

A cold hand landed lightly on Takashi’s shoulder, and he shivered.

“When was the last time you drank anything?” Nishimura asked.

Licking dry lips, Takashi tried not to whimper when he gave his inevitably disappointing answer. “Yesterday. With… with Touko-san.”

Nishimura _tsked_ , but it was a light sound. “Well, that’s no good. We can’t have you drying up and turning into a raisin on us, now can we?”

Cracking open heavy eyelids, Takashi stared into the shadows of Tanuma’s collarbone. It wasn’t as if he could see any more of Nishimura like this, but for some reason, it was easier to focus his attention if his eyes could focus on something too.

The bedroom door rattled open again, and solid footsteps approached.

“Perfect timing, Acchan. Natsume should probably stick to the water for now, though.”

“Sure.”

Liquid sloshed and glass clinked.

There was a soft, rustling thud, then Kitamoto’s faint— unusually faint, actually— coffee scent seeped through to Takashi’s senses.

“How are you feeling, Natsume?”

Dredging up every scrap of energy he had left, Takashi started to roll over, and caught sight of Kitamoto’s outstretched hand— only to have the bond flash bright in the back of his mind and Tanuma’s arms suddenly tighten around him, pulling him away. A raspy, startled noise slipped out before Takashi could stop it, and he turned his gaze upward, to as much of Tanuma’s face as he could see.

Barely a second later though, Tanuma’s grasp loosened again, and Takashi was able to pull back enough to look at him properly.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t know—” Tanuma stuttered out.

“So you do have some alpha tendencies left after all,” Kitamoto said thoughtfully. “It’s alright. I know you’re pretty chill, but I still should’ve remembered.”

The bond was now washing over with faintly guilty confusion, and that, Takashi recognized, but what had the other thing been?

“…Tanuma?” He asked hesitantly.

Tanuma’s eyes angled down to meet his, dark and soft. “Sorry Natsume. I’ll try not to do that again.”

That didn’t answer Takashi’s question at all, but he was too tired and achy to properly pursue it.

“Here,” Kitamoto said, and Tanuma shifted enough to reach toward him.

“Come on, Natsume,” Tanuma coaxed gently, scooping a hand around the back of Takashi’s head and lifting. “You need to stay hydrated.”

With a groan, Takashi did his best to follow Tanuma’s lead. He cupped weak, shaking hands around the bottom of the water glass, but didn’t protest when Tanuma helped lift it to his lips. 

He misjudged the size of the first swallow, and water spilled down his chin and chest in tiny, icy rivulets. At the very least, he managed to get the rest of the mouthful down without choking. “I’m sorry, I—”

Tanuma pulled the cup back at the same time Nishimura swooped in to pass him a napkin. “Nothing to be sorry about, Natsume. Carry on,” Nishimura said, taking the water-and-sweat damp scrap back after Takashi finished his clumsy attempt at cleaning up.

And before Takashi could cringe any more over the mess he was making or his own helplessness, Tanuma put the cup back in his hands. Takashi drank until his throat no longer rasped with every breath, then drank a little more— he hadn’t realized how thirsty he’d been until the first drop had hit his tongue.

Finally, dizzy, he pushed the glass away and leaned into Tanuma’s side, letting his mate’s warm, rich scent soothe him.

“You’re probably not hungry yet, huh?” Nishimura said from somewhere else in the room. Takashi shook his head.

“I figured.” There was a grunt and rustle of fabric, and Takashi turned his head enough to watch Nishimura and Kitamoto stand. “In that case, we won’t be needed for a while. Tanuma, make sure he at least drinks the water.”

Then Nishimura took a step toward the door, and something in Takashi’s chest seized.

“Wait,” he managed to call. “You— stay.”

Nishimura turned, eyebrows raised curiously. “Really? Our scents aren’t bothering you?”

It took Takashi a moment to remember that Nishimura warned him about something like that. But Nishimura and Kitamoto had brought good smells, so he’d forgotten.

“No. I like them,” Takashi said before he could think about the implications of his words.

“Huh.” Nishimura sounded intrigued. “That’s pretty rare. Tanuma, how are you feeling about it?”

“I, uh,” Tanuma scratched the back of his head. “I didn’t really notice.”

“I see,” Nishimura said with a laugh. “Natsume, I wonder if you’d actually _like_ …”

Takashi watched hazily as Nishimura and Kitamoto carefully pushed the water basin, towels, cups, and juice over until they were within easy reach of the nest, then came over to Takashi’s side. 

“Permission to enter?” Nishimura asked brightly.

Not entirely sure what Nishimura’s plan was, Takashi nodded slowly. It took some scooting around and painful readjusting, but eventually all four of them were once again squashed cozily into the nest. Still, Takashi couldn’t help but shift uneasily. Something was picking insistently at his hindbrain, instincts needing something Takashi had no idea how to provide.

“You good, Natsume?” Nishimura whispered, only inches away from Takashi’s face.

“…Dunno. Doesn’t hurt. I’ll be fine,” he mumbled.

With a considering hum, Nishimura narrowed his eyes. “Alright, time for the big guns. Tanuma, shirt off.”

At Takashi’s back, Tanuma choked.

Kitamoto snorted quietly. “The more skin-to-skin, the better,” he explained. “I do it for Sacchan too, sometimes.”

Takashi whimpered at the loss of warmth and faint dimming of the bond when Tanuma sat up to do as Nishimura had demanded. A cool hand landed on his own, and Takashi looked down to see Nishimura’s fingers wrapped around his. Faint tingles rippled up from the point of contact, and Takashi sighed into it. It was so _good_ to feel touch without pain, whether from his own body or… anything else.

Then Tanuma laid back down against him, and Takashi gasped at the burst of sensation; the sudden blaze of the mating bond, the soft coolness of Tanuma’s bare skin, and the thrum of his satisfied instincts. Helplessly, Takashi arched back against Tanuma’s body, drinking in every tingling chill that smothered the fever burning at his core. 

Tanuma reciprocated the silent plea, curling tighter around Takashi and splaying large hands over the plane of his stomach. 

Takashi should’ve been terrified— he was thoroughly trapped, at the mercy of two alphas— one of which he was tied to for _life_ — utterly trusting of the gentle promises between them all, spoken and unspoken. And he felt _whole_.

Touko-san loved him and Shigeru-san was gentle with him, Nishimura had chosen him as a friend and Kitamoto had been patient while he learned how to trust. Taki had kept his secret, and Tanuma was protecting him.

And Takashi was full, overflowing with emotions he couldn’t name, and even through the haze of heat and lingering pain, he was warm and happy and safe. He belonged here. He wanted to stay.

Someone— was it him?— made a choked, needy cry, then gentle fingers were smoothing wetness from Takashi’s cheeks, a low voice was murmuring soft nothings into his ear, and the air was saturated with sweet concern and earthy comfort and ambrosial tenderness. Every scent was full of that same emotion, one he’d felt a few times before, but that now threatened to wash Takashi away with its force; one that might’ve been happiness, if happiness hadn’t completely paled in comparison.

Takashi brought his hands up to his chest and pressed in, as if he could hold himself together from the outside. “What is it?” He heard himself ask, but no one answered him.

So instead, he reached out to cling to his friend, to the sugar-spun omega scent that he’d trusted before any of the others, and buried his nose in his neck. Omegas weren’t supposed to do this with other omegas, but at that moment, Takashi couldn’t bring himself to care at all.

Between him and Tanuma, the mating bond echoed back and forth with the same more-than-happiness and brilliant glow that Tanuma had called ‘love’; and finally, Takashi reached out to embrace the link, letting Tanuma’s emotions flood through the cracks of his brain. On the other end, Takashi blindly followed the welcoming path to Tanuma’s mind, tracing the source of the bright thing he couldn’t name, found it concentrated around where his omega and Tanuma’s alpha were twined together.

_Joy_ , Tanuma told him, the word as overwhelming as its sensation. _We are joyful_.

And Takashi drowned in it.

After a while, the cramps set back in, taking angry claws to his soft insides. But Tanuma’s hands never relented in their soothing massage, and Nishimura was safe and cool and familiar at his front, and Kitamoto’s scent was an unassuming anchor in the sea of other, overpowering pheromones. 

Takashi was propped up, just a little, and he drank when the rim of a cup touched his lips. Water had never tasted sweeter.

It was Nishimura’s hands that held him up when he stumbled on weak legs to use the bathroom, and Kitamoto’s arms that picked him up when he inevitably fell. Shame threatened to creep in with every failure, but his friends never let it happen, showering him in quiet praise and encouragement that made something in his hindbrain purr.

Takashi must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he opened his eyes, dimmer, late noon sunlight was scattered across the room. Tanuma, Nishimura, and Kitamoto were all upright and eating off of a tray that smelled like heaven.

“He’s awake,” Tanuma said, meeting Takashi’s eyes with a knowing smile. The bond thrummed with their complete connection.

“Natsume!” Nishimura cried. “Are you hungry yet?”

Takashi considered it. There _was _a sort of hollow in his stomach just below the remaining cramps, so he probably should eat. He nodded.__

__“Perfect timing. Touko-san brought this up like fifteen minutes ago, so everything’s still hot,” Nishimura said, beaming. “Uhh… maybe some soup to start?”_ _

__If it was Touko-san’s miso, Takashi was happy to eat. Determined, he pushed himself up until he could safely catch his breath against Tanuma’s sturdy side. Nishimura promptly placed a steaming bowl into his hands. It smelled so _good_ , but it was all Takashi could do to hold it up with both hands, the liquid inside rippling with the trembling of his arms._ _

__“Y’know, you’re definitely stronger than I usually am on day two of heat,” Nishimura mused. “Which is kind of weird, considering you’re sick and injured, like, all the rest of the time. Maybe you’ve built up an immunity?”_ _

__This was considered _strong_? If that was really the case, Takashi wondered how Nishimura even survived._ _

__The soup was still in his hands, untouched._ _

__“Natsume, could I… help you?” Tanuma asked out of the blue, oddly hesitant. It took Takashi a moment to understand what it would mean._ _

__Apparently, Nishimura and Kitamoto had picked up on it too, because while Takashi froze, the two of them were already on the move._ _

__“It’s not so bad, Natsume,” Nishimura said, his voice light and teasing. “You only have to endure being treated like royalty for a minute or two.” He leaned in toward Kitamoto to take a proffered bite of food directly from Kitamoto’s outstretched chopsticks. “See?”_ _

__It… really didn’t seem so taboo when Nishimura and Kitamoto did it so casually. And they weren’t even mates! If Tanuma had been the one to ask for it… surely he wouldn’t mind if Takashi indulged?_ _

__More stiffly than he would’ve liked, Takashi turned to look up at Tanuma, his own willingness pulsing lightly down their bond. Tanuma’s scent flooded with bright, tangy pleasure._ _

__Gently, Tanuma lifted the bowl from Takashi’s tired hands, dipped the spoon in and held it to Takashi’s mouth. Instinctively, he blew on the hot steam first, then immediately flushed. Hesitating when your mate was trying to _feed_ you had to be wrong. But neither Tanuma’s scent nor his happiness wavered, and clearly he hadn’t noticed or didn’t care about Takashi’s mistake. Or… maybe he didn’t think it was a mistake at all?_ _

__Takashi sipped at the spoonful, sighing as the rich flavor washed over his tongue. Then he did it again. And again. Tanuma seemed almost hyper-focused on the task, hyper-focused on _Takashi_ , but instead of leaving him squirming under the attention, it felt as though a sort of bubble had formed around the two of them; a bubble that muffled Nishimura and Kitamoto’s already-quiet voices and left Natsume to sink peacefully into Tanuma’s care._ _

__Soon the soup turned to soft noodles in clear broth, then tiny bites of salty fish that Takashi took directly from Tanuma’s fingers. He felt… good. Sated. And once the food stopped and he’d drunk his fill of water too, Takashi rested his head against Tanuma’s shoulder and touched his nose to the scent gland there, needing to be closer, somehow. If Tanuma’s scent had been pleasant before, now it was _heady_ with a satisfied thrill that Takashi couldn’t parse, mostly confined as it was to Tanuma’s side of the connection._ _

__It was hot again, but now it felt a little less like fever and a little more like summer._ _

__“Nishimura?” Takashi murmured, blinking unusually heavy eyelids. “Could you open th’ window?”_ _

__“Oh!” Nishimura hopped to his feet and lightly stepped out of the nest. “Sure. I take it you’re feeling better?”_ _

__Takashi closed his eyes into the faint breeze that brushed over his face. “Mm.”_ _

__Nudging closer into Tanuma’s loose embrace, Takashi just breathed._ _

__“You’ll probably be able to at least walk around tomorrow, Natsume,” Nishimura was saying. “Ahh, I’m jealous. Usually I’m down for at _least_ one more day.”_ _

__There was a pause._ _

__“At the risk of being invasive”— Kitamoto snorted and there was a smacking sound— “how long are your ruts, Tanuma?” Nishimura asked._ _

__Tanuma made an unhappy noise that Takashi could feel vibrating against his cheek. “Only two days. But I get them every two months.”_ _

__Kitamoto hissed between his teeth and Nishimura whistled low. “Damn. Why?”_ _

__Tanuma’s chin brushed over Takashi’s hair as he shook his head. “I wish I knew. But apparently it’s not hurting me, so.” He shrugged. “I guess you, uh, don’t really get ruts, Kitamoto?”_ _

__“Nope,” Kitamoto said with a laugh. “I had one, sort of, when I presented, but it wasn’t bad and it wasn’t for long. And that was it.”_ _

__With a sigh, Tanuma dropped his head down against Takashi’s. “I guess it’s not without a tradeoff, though.”_ _

__Fabric rustled. “It’s worked out alright for me.”_ _

__Easy silence settled over them again, and Takashi could feel Tanuma probing gently at the bond, searching through the threads of Takashi’s physical pain. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was uncomfortable. Steeling himself, Takashi poked at Tanuma’s presence, forcing him away from that particular corner of his mind. There was no resistance, no anger. Tanuma withdrew immediately, and apologetically dipped his nose to Takashi’s neck._ _

__“I’m glad you’re feeling a little better,” Tanuma murmured, and Takashi hummed in reply._ _

__He opened his eyes, just enough to see out from under heavy lids, meeting first Nishimura’s gaze, then Kitamoto’s. “Thank you.”_ _

__Even he wasn’t entirely sure what for— or maybe he couldn’t begin to put it into words— but hopefully, they would know what he meant._ _

__They smiled back at him, Nishimura bright and Kitamoto gentle._ _

__“Of course. It’s our pleasure.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 900 kudos?? I'm shaking in my boots.  
> Scream at me on [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Round 374720028 of Logic’s favorite tropes, also i have a job interview tomorrow so now i'm stress-writing
> 
> CW: non-graphic description of child abuse (choking, neglect)

After Nishimura and Kitamoto had reluctantly dragged themselves away from Natsume’s side when the sun had begun to set, Kaname was once again left alone with Natsume, quietly absorbing his mate’s warmth and intoxicating scent.

The energy Natsume had gained near the end of Nishimura and Kitamoto’s visit seemed to have mostly worn off, and now he tossed and turned restlessly against the curve of Kaname’s body. Somewhat guiltily, Kaname couldn’t help but notice how good Natsume’s soft skin felt against his, even sweat-sticky as it was.

So instead, he tried to focus on keeping Natsume as cool and comfortable as possible. Cold towels didn’t do much when Natsume never stopped shifting around, but Kaname could at least make sure he drank enough water.

After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, a soft groan from Natsume broke up the relative stillness. “Tanuma,” he said weakly. 

Kaname paused in the humming of one of his dad’s old lullabies and turned his full attention to stroking through Natsume’s hair. “Yeah?”

“I…”

Kaname waited a few more seconds, but Natsume remained frozen, clearly hovering on the brink of indecision. In his mind, the light of their bond wavered.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he murmured against the back of Natsume’s head, “but I’m here to help you.”

“…I need— more.” Natsume’s scent rapidly soured with acrid shame and fear.

Kaname’s heart sank a little, but he reprimanded himself right away. Obviously, not all of Natsume’s insecurities could be worked through in a day, or a week, or even a month. He’d already come so far, and Kaname was proud.

“More what?” He prompted as gently as he could.

Slowly, Natsume opened his mouth again, but it snapped shut when a soft patter of footsteps and rattle of a door announced Touko-san’s arrival.

“Takashi-kun? Tanuma-kun?” She called softly, her head poking through of the doorway. Her whole face brightened when she saw them both up and awake. Biting back an uncharacteristic curl of resentment at her well-intentioned, inopportune intrusion, Kaname tried to focus on what she was saying

“Takashi-kun, you just got a call from Taki-san, asking if you’d like her to come over tomorrow. I told her I wasn’t sure how you would be feeling, but you look a lot better,” she said hopefully.

Kaname could feel the rapid pounding of Natsume’s heartrate against his own chest. 

“Oh. Yes.” He still looked spooked. “I want Taki here.”

“Wonderful!” Touko-san said with a little clap of her hands. “Of course, you don’t have to push yourself too hard right now, Takashi-kun. You’re allowed to recover.”

“I—I know.” Natsume smile was small, but genuine nonetheless. “She won’t hurt me. I want her here.”

“I’ll call her back right away, then,” Touko-san said with a smile. She reached out to smooth a thumb over his cheek. “And I’ll bring you some more juice, too.”

When she moved to withdraw though, Natsume’s hand shot out to snag her wrist. All three of them looked at the scene, surprised. 

“I’m sorry— I just wanted—” Natsume ducked his chin.

“Oh!” Touko-san exclaimed. “Of course, Takashi-kun.”

She easily followed as Natsume pulled her hand in, just close enough to lay her wrist against his nose for a brief second and smudge his wrist over hers before letting go.

Touko-san looked more than a little teary-eyed when she pulled away. “I’ll be right back.”

And she was gone.

Natsume was clutching his hand— no, his wrist— close to his chest, eyes closed and face scrunched up; and a brief press into his mind revealed happiness edged with faint panic. Kaname frowned. Even with a direct link to Natsume’s emotions, sometimes it was still impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Touko-san returned to set a new pitcher of juice and a bowl of small, round crackers on the nearby table before tiptoeing out with a nod and smile. 

Natsume went back to restless quiet, pressing himself, cat-like, into every touch of Kaname’s hands. Kaname was torn between bringing up their interrupted conversation and letting Natsume move at his own pace, but at least he could give Natsume what he was asking for right then. As if it was a hardship to keep comforting his mate with gentle touches.

As the minutes passed, Natsume stirred more and more, with tiny, breathy whimpers whenever he writhed and apparently failed to satisfy whatever he was lacking. And finally, Kaname couldn’t take it anymore.

“Natsume,” he paused. How to avoid sounding forceful? “I’m still here for whatever you need.”

Natsume buried his face in Kaname’s chest. “I—I’m sorry.”

Kaname shook his head with a soft hum, waiting.

“I just feel—” Natsume’s hand moved up to paw at the back of his own neck, and Kaname’s whole world slowed. Natsume really wanted him to—? An omega’s nape was one of the most sensitive, vulnerable spots on their whole body, everybody knew that. It was almost sacred, really, a spot meant for mothers to scruff disobedient children and mates to touch for comfort, and that was _it_.

Natsume was already willing to expose it to Kaname?

Slowly, reverently, Kaname reached up to Natsume’s neck, brushing his fingertips over the nearby scent gland first. Even he wasn’t entirely sure why. A chance for Natsume to change his mind, maybe?

Sure enough, Natsume’s hand snapped up to wrap Kaname’s wrist in a surprisingly iron grip. Kaname stilled, barely daring to breathe. He watched Natsume’s throat work around a hard swallow, listened to his rapid gasps, smelled the tangled storm of fear that seeped into the air.

Then Natsume let go.

Instinct pushed Kaname to cup his hand solidly around Natsume’s nape instead of tentatively tracing over it, and he knew he’d made the right decision when Natsume _keened_ , arching back into the touch with eyes blown wide and pupils dilated. It might’ve been arousing if Kaname hadn’t been just this side of alarmed. He’d never seen Natsume respond to anything other than pain so vehemently before.

But the mating bond was blindingly bright between them, flooded with sensation, not agony, so Kaname just… kept his hand there.

A moment later, Natsume slumped, utterly boneless under his touch; and Kaname hurried to pull him close, arranging his limbs in a more comfortable position. His eyes were half-lidded now, glassy and shining with an odd amber light. A faint rumble started low in his chest, and Kaname shivered. His mate felt safe enough, _happy_ enough, to purr.

It was clear Natsume wasn’t entirely there though, despite a faint, breathy response when Kaname called his name. So Kaname changed tactics a little, smoothing his thumb steadily over the barely-there bump at Natusme’s nape and praying that it wouldn’t disturb him. Natsume’s whole body trembled with every swipe, and Kaname couldn’t help but revel at bone-deep satisfaction of his instincts. It had only been a minute or so, but Natsume was already miles down.

By the time Shigeru-san came in with dinner, Kaname was halfway to a trance of his own, listening to the slow and steady beat of Natsume’s heart and drifting on the hazy current of their bond. He stirred, blinking up into Shigeru-san’s face when he placed a hand lightly over Kaname’s forehead.

“There you are,” Shigeru-san murmured. He pulled his hand back. “How is Takashi-kun doing?”

“He—” Kaname licked over dry lips, forcing himself back to full awareness. Or at least enough awareness to answer the question. “I brought him down, he’s been there for a while. I think, anyway. I’m not sure when we started, exactly. Should I… bring him back up? I don’t know—” He was babbling now, inexplicably desperate to explain himself to Natsume’s adopted father. “He was miserable earlier, and he asked if I would— so I did, but I can—”

“Tanuma-kun,” Shigeru-san interrupted him with a small, amused smile. “It’s alright. I can see you’re taking good care of him. But if you would bring him up now, we can make sure he gets something to eat.”

“Right. Of course,” Kaname stumbled, turning back to Natsume. It was suddenly very awkward, being watched like this. “Natsume,” he called softly.

Moving his hand off Natsume’s nape, Kaname trailed his fingers down his arms until he could grasp Natsume’s wrists. He gave them a gentle squeeze, pressing atop the scent glands there. “Come on, Natsume. Shigeru-san brought dinner.”

In his mind, the bond flickered, and Natsume’s heartrate began picking up. Kaname quickly swapped to combing his fingers through the fine strands of Natsume’s hair, coaxing him back into the waking world.

“Tanuma?” Natsume mumbled, opening dazed eyes as he did so.

“Welcome back.”

A beat. Then— “…’M thirsty.”

“Okay,” Kaname said, hiding his smile in Natsume’s hair. “Give me one second.”

He leaned out of the nest, ready to reach for the glass, but Shigeru-san was already there to hand it to him. Kaname nodded his thanks, then helped hold the glass up while Natsume took small, careful sips.

“Takashi-kun,” Shigeru-san said when it looked like Natsume was finally conscious enough to understand. “Touko-san and I thought you might like a hot bath now that you’re through the worst of your heat. You don’t have to if you don’t feel up to it, but we can have it ready in a few minutes if you do. How does that sound?”

Natsume stared at him for a long time. Kaname didn’t even have to touch the bond to feel sense the unsettled churning of this thoughts.

At last, Natsume spoke. “I… I’d like a bath. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all,” Shigeru-san said warmly. “Why don’t you and Tanuma-kun have something to eat? I’ll call you when the bath is ready.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Natsume’s voice was small.

After Shigeru-san left, Natsume shuffled up into a sitting position, only this time he settled for only barely leaning against Kaname’s shoulder. There was a hesitance in his movement that hadn’t been there earlier, and Kaname had a sneaking suspicion he knew the reason.

“Are you feeling better, now?” He ventured.

“…Yes. Thank you, Tanuma.” The words were perfectly polite. Uncertain. Uncomfortable.

Kaname’s heart ached.

“What’s bothering you, Natsume? You know—well, I hope you know—I’m more than happy to help.” _Please don’t let that be too overbearing._

A ghost of a smile passed over Natsume’s face, but his scent remained burnt and soured. “I do know. But I’m still—” he hesitated. “I’m just thinking too hard.”

He was going to risk it. “About me?”

Natsume’s eyes were strangely distant. “No. Yes. You were… freeing.”

That one word carried a lifetime’s worth of weight.

“Freeing?” Kaname echoed, barely daring to hope.

“Mm. I was— outside. You let me leave.”

Kaname had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t really matter. “Was there someone who… didn’t let you leave?”

And just like that, Natsume refocused, gaze sharp and searching over Kaname’s face.

“One of my foster families. From before.” There was a long pause. “He would leave the house sometimes, lock me inside. I was too small to escape.” Natsume’s voice reduced to a whisper. “And he’d get drunk.”

Kaname already hated everything about this story, could he feel scent rising against his will. Natsume was shrinking into himself, smaller and smaller like a wilting flower.

“He didn’t like me very much. If I didn’t stay out of his sight, he’d—grab me.” Nastume touched his throat, tracing some unseen line of pain. “And I’d choke until everything was dark and I was trapped in my own head. In my own body. He never actually touched”— Natsume’s hand spasmed over his nape— “But he’d get so _close_ , and I could never breathe.”

A growl bubbled up from deep in Kaname’s throat, and it was all he could do to resist just grabbing Natsume and holding him so close that nothing would ever hurt him again. But then again, that wouldn’t be much better, would it?

“It was worse than being shut in the closet,” Natsume finished, barely audible now, even to Kaname’s senses.

“Natsume,” Kaname said, voice rough. Natsume cringed away from him. “I’m sorry, I’m not angry at you at all, I’m—” he swallowed a snarl. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

“Me too.” Natsume’s eyes flickered to his and away again.

“…Is that why you grabbed my hand to stop me, before?” 

Natsume nodded. “But… I trusted you. And you let me breathe.”

Kaname was going to cry, and there was no one in the world who could shame him about it.

“I—” he hesitated, then took the plunge. “I want to do it for you again. As many times as you’ll let me. I know you didn’t really choose me for a mate, but as much as I can free you, I will. Please.” 

Natsume’s eyes were wide and bright, his presence creeping over the bond into Kaname’s mind. “You want to?”

“More than anything,” Kaname said helplessly.

“Okay,” Natsume breathed, his scent slowly melting back to rich, buttery sweetness. “Okay.”

They didn’t speak after that, as if Natsume’s memory and Kaname’s promise had been too heavy, too profound for anything else to touch. Kaname wondered if that was the most Natsume had shared with _anyone_ about the things he’d had to survive in the past.

So Natsume leaned a little more firmly against Kaname’s bare torso while Kaname fed him bits of fried rice and cubes of chilled watermelon, shivering every time Natsume had to lick stray juices from his fingertips. Combined with the perfect spice of Natsume’s scent, it left his head spinning.

Shigeru-san would probably be back to announce Natsume’s bath soon, but for now, their only task was to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all's comments on the last chapter making me cry :')
> 
> Maybe find out if the next chapter will be out as fast as this one on my [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this week but this felt like a good place to split it.
> 
> Also I did bad and started a new fanfic in a new fandom, why do i make myself suffer like this

For some reason, Kaname’s irrational possessiveness never spiked when it was Touko or Shigeru-san who reached for Natsume, so he didn’t argue when Shigeru-san returned to help hoist Natsume up and half-carry him to the bathroom. Kaname definitely needed the chance to stretch his stiff limbs for a while.

Inside the bathroom, the air was clouded with steam and slightly sweet with some kind of scented soap or oil. Bubbles were piled precariously high on the surface of the bath, and Kaname couldn’t help a grin at the sight of it. 

Natsume, on the other hand, was frowning. “What… what’s in it?”

Startled, Kaname turned to stare at him.

Shigeru-san was watching too. “You’ve never had a bubble bath before, Takashi-kun?”

“Oh,” Natsume said, face clearing. “I know what that is.”

“But… you’ve never had one?” Kaname asked, unable to hide his incredulity. 

Shaking his head, Natsume shrank back a little. The bond filled with uncertainty as his eyes flickered between Kaname and Shigeru-san. “No. They were for the little kids. Or special occasions.”

Either Natsume hadn’t gotten the chance to be a little kid or he hadn’t been considered special, and Kaname didn’t like either option.

“Well, I say bubble baths are for anyone who wants them,” Shigeru-san said comfortably. Kaname admired his control. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

“Okay.” Natsume looked back at the bath, fiddling with the drawstring of his pants. It was difficult to scent anything through the steam and soap, but Kaname could still pick of traces of Natsume’s raw discomfort.

“Would you like one of us to stay, or shall we leave you to it?” Shigeru-san asked kindly.

Natsume shifted. “I— I don’t know. Maybe… Tanuma?”

“Of course,” Shigeru-san nodded and made for the door. “Just call if you need anything else.”

Once they were alone, Kaname spoke up. “Um. I’ll just turn around for a bit.” And he did. It was surprisingly difficult to stay focused on the— admittedly interesting— grain of the door when he could hear the rustle of Natsume’s uncertain movements and his blaring anxiety through the bond.

A few splashes and thumps later, Natsume quietly informed Kaname he could look again.

It took Kaname a second to actually spot Natsume in the mountain of bubbles, buried up to the chin as he was. The only thing holding him back from laughing at the sight was the realization that Natsume probably wouldn’t interpret the sound kindly. 

Tentatively, Kaname shuffled closer to sit on the closed toilet lid. “So, uh… what do you think?” He nodded in the direction of the bubbles.

Natsume blinked up at him. “…It tickles.” He paused. “What am I supposed to do with them?”

“Uh.” Kaname cast back to his own long-ago days of baths. “Play with it? I used to make funny towers and put the bubbles in my hair and stuff.”

“Play,” Natsume echoed, scooping up a handful of fluff.

“Yeah.” Cautiously, Kaname crouched down directly beside the tub and reached in, giving Natsume plenty of time to react. When he didn’t, Kaname gathered a bubble heap of his own, and it fizzed pleasantly on his skin as the bubbles popped. “Like this.” 

And he dropped the whole handful on top of his head. 

He regretted it almost instantly— he must look ridiculous, and now his hair was damp too —but when he looked up, Natsume’s eyes were bright and crinkled and _smiling_. Kaname’s jaw might have dropped a little, and Natsume’s muffled snort of laughter was the sweetest music to his ears.

“Natsume…” Kaname said, stunned, and Natsume met his eyes. A delirious, wondering sort of joy was rippling through the bond and stirring in the air, and he eagerly reciprocated.

When Natsume slowly, curiously, placed his own scoop of bubbles onto his head, Kaname couldn’t hold back an encouraging whoop of laughter.

“Now we match,” Natsume said. His smile was small, but absolutely glowing.

“Yeah,” Kaname grinned, “but you should do _more_.” 

And before he could think too hard about it, he collected a whole armful of bubbles to bestow upon Natsume’s head and shoulders. For a fleeting moment, Natsume looked exactly like a confused, snow-dusted sparrow. Then his face took on a mischievous twist, one that felt like a glimpse of the person Natsume might’ve been in a different life, and suddenly Kaname too was dripping in fizzing clouds of white.

The sweetness of Natsume’s scent was dizzying.

Slowly, Kaname reached forward, and Natsume let him gently cup his hands over the sides of his face. Sparks tingled through Kaname’s palms at the contact. 

Stroking his hands upward until they reached Natsume’s hair, Kaname focused on pushing back Natsume’s over-long bangs until his forehead was clear and his hair was swooped back and to one side.

When he was done, Kaname drew his hands away and just… looked for a bit. Natsume was an entirely different person like this, but what Kaname was really caught on was how soft and open his face looked without all the hair in the way. It wasn’t like Natsume’s haircut had been atrocious before or anything, so Kaname hadn’t really noticed, but _now_ …

“Tanuma?” Natsume asked quietly.

“I… you look good like that,” Kaname said. The words didn’t even come close to expressing everything he was feeling at the moment, but maybe Natsume would understand some of the sentiment anyway.

“Oh.” Natsume reached up and tugged at a loose strand that had escaped its bubble prison. “Should I cut my hair again?”

“Only if you want to. But… I do like seeing your eyes,” Kaname said as honestly as he could.

“Hmm.” Natsume seemed to study Kaname’s face for a moment, and he watched back.

“Lean—” Natsume stopped; started again. “Will you lean in a little?”

Obligingly, Kaname did so, and Natsume promptly dragged his fingers through Kaname’s hair, sending a jolting shiver down his spine. He held still as Natsume arranged his hair one way, then another, a little crease between his eyebrows as he worked.

Eventually, Natsume pulled back, a curious frown on his lips. “You look… different.”

With great care, Kaname reached up to pat over the arrangement. Natsume had given him a side part, and tucked the hair the normally hung around his neck and ears into a clump that Kaname doubted could be seen from the front. “I bet. My hair’s always been long.”

Natsume almost looked as if he was going to say more, but in the end, he only sank back into the pile of bubbles and closed his eyes. Kaname remained leaning against the tub wall, alternatively watching Natsume and stirring a finger through the remaining bubbles to form patterns.

Eventually though, the water faded from hot to warm, and the thick layer of bubbles began to dissolve away. Natsume stirred, reaching for the shampoo bottle and turning it over in visibly shaky hands. He lifted his gaze to Kaname with a hesitant look on his face.

“Will you help me?”

As far as Kaname was concerned, there was no greater honor, and he took his time lathering the mostly unscented shampoo through every strand of Natsume’s hair. Natsume leaned against the side of the tub, head tilted trustingly into Kaname’s hands, and Kaname never wanted the moment to end. Unfortunately, Natsume’s hair could only get so clean, and once Kaname was finished scooping warm water over Natsume’s head and neck to wash out the suds, there was nothing left for him to do.

“I’ll be right outside if you need anything,” he murmured, afraid to interrupt the soft, quiet atmosphere.

Natsume nodded, and with one last glance back, Kaname stepped out.

\--~~--

It was in a sort of stupefied daze that Takashi climbed out of the tub and wrapped himself in the massive, fluffy towel Shigeru-san had laid out for him. The last dregs of bliss from when Tanuma had brought him down still lingered beneath the faint thrill of being handfed and the electric buzz of where Tanuma’s fingers had massaged over his scalp, and Takashi had to pinch himself to make sure it wasn’t all just a wonderful dream.

When he stumbled out of the bathroom, legs stronger now that the cramps were gone, Tanuma was right there to meet him, laying a careful, supportive arm over his bare shoulders and walking with him back to the bedroom.

They moved in tandem, emotion and intent flowing smoothly between them in the bond. It was a connection that Takashi was beginning to rely on. Tanuma turned around just long enough for Takashi to wrestle on fresh underwear and pajama pants, but when he cast around for a shirt, Tanuma was right there, holding one of his button-downs open. Takashi slipped his arms through the sleeves, grateful for the lack of burning over his skin at the touch. Limply, he stood and watched as Tanuma’s deft hands buttoned up the front, and when Tanuma straightened up after finishing, Takashi found his own hand reaching out to brush over Tanuma’s cheek.

Tanuma tilted his head a little, but let Takashi finish indulging his sudden bout of irrational fascination. A burst of sweet contentment struck Takashi like a firework as Tanuma smiled at him and combed still-damp hair back from his face.

Tanuma’s arms were familiar and comfortable around him as he drifted off to sleep.

\--

When Takashi woke to full beams of sunlight across his face, his head was a hundred times clearer than it had been over the last few days; and he reveled in his new ability to stare full into Tanuma’s sleep-soft face and feel just as safe with the alpha beside him as he had during the neediness of heat.

Carefully, Takashi wiggled out from his mate’s surprisingly strong grip. Tanuma probably needed all the sleep he could get after having constantly taken care of Takashi over the past couple of days. After a moment of hesitation, Takashi bent down and touched his lips to Tanuma’s hairline before stepping from the nest and tiptoeing downstairs.

Touko-san was at the stove, humming softly and swaying to her own beat when Takashi poked his head into the kitchen.

“Takashi-kun!” She exclaimed when her eyes landed on him. “You’re up!”

Takashi could only look at her for a second, at the heavy crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes, at the way her whole face was brightened with happiness, at her arms, half-outstretched and ready to hug. He ran to her as fast as his weak legs would allow, and she caught him a soft huff of effort. Pressing his nose to her neck, Takashi breathed in her scent, of fresh greens and life.

“Takashi-kun?”

He inhaled slow, eyes closed and cheek resting on Touko-san’s shoulder; and maybe one day he’d be able to say it to her face the way he should, but for now— “I love you too.”

The words rushed out, and for some reason, Takashi’s heart was _pounding_. “I love you too.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Touko-san whispered, and she pulled him in close, surrounding him in warmth. Takashi clung right back, relief flooding through him as if he were a child again, finally finding a temple after a reckless, desperate escape.

Eventually, they pulled apart, and Touko-san held Takashi’s arms, watching him with a smile so… _joyful_ it made him ache.

“Come, Takashi-kun,” she tugged him through the kitchen, nudging him into a chair already piled with pillows and pushing half a dozen steaming plates toward him. “You must be hungry by now. Is Tanuma still asleep?”

Takashi nodded mutely. “I… he needs to rest.”

“Of course. Well, when he’s ready, I have breakfast for him too. Oh! And Nishimura-kun called not that long ago. Your friends should be here soon.”

They’d seen him in the middle of _heat_ , but a little thrill of nervousness rattled through Takashi anyway. He was fully presented now. Surely their interactions would be different _somehow_.

When Tanuma came down, it was with wide yawns and slow, heavy blinks. Takashi tugged at the bond, and Tanuma shuffled over to him, pulling a chair in so close they were touching, and dug his nose into the crook of Takashi’s neck.

“You were gone,” he mumbled, “but then I could feel you. You’re happy.” And he pulled away to stuff a slice of bread into his mouth.

Takashi touched his hair, helplessly smiling at his mate’s half-conscious affection.

“Yeah. I think I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get updates on my [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)!


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'M SORRY I'VE BEEN GONE SO LONG AAAHHH WRITING IS HARD)
> 
> (Over 1000 kudos dear god)
> 
> Alright, I'm just gonna say it: I don't like this chapter, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging any longer. I've really been struggling to figure out where I want to take this fic next, so if I end up significantly changing what I have for the next chapter, I'll be coming back to edit this one as well. I'll be sure to keep you all updated >.>

“Okay, but you guys are cute together,” Nishimura said with a grin, staring down at where Takashi’s hand was wrapped around Tanuma’s.

Reflexively, Takashi flushed and made to pull away, but Tanuma stopped him with a gentle squeeze. When Takashi glanced up, his mate was staring straight forward, with only a tingle of soft amusement through the bond to give him away.

“Really, Sacchan?” Kitamoto sighed.

Nishimura wheeled around, eyes wide. “It’s a good thing! I was worried for nothing. Aren’t you glad they’re getting along so well?”

“Obviously. But they’ve also been together for about three days, tops, so no need to tease.” Kitamoto turned a thoughtful look on the two of them. “Actually, are you _dating_ now? Or are you going for a more platonic mate bond?”

A little startled, Takashi blinked at him helplessly. Tanuma was his true mate. Didn’t they have to be together?

With a quiet hum, Tanuma glanced over at Takashi. “I don’t know. We haven’t discussed it yet.” His scent was a bright, relaxing citrus that Takashi had never smelled from him before. It was… comfortable.

Kitamoto nodded slowly. “And Natsume? How are you feeling now that your first heat is mostly over?”

“Me?” Takashi couldn’t help but echo. “I…”

What _was_ he feeling? Mostly nervous, he decided. He’d braced himself for _some_ kind of reaction when his friends had all gathered at the Fujiwara’s house that morning, but no one had mentioned anything about his scent so far, and they didn’t seem to be treating him any differently. He’d seen other people’s friendships formed and destroyed over scent compatibility alone, so maybe that meant they liked it? Takashi couldn’t really smell himself when he wasn’t scared out of his mind, but he could tell it wasn’t the saccharine sweetness that omegas were supposed to have. 

Then, of course, there was the fact that he was finally taking Nishimura and Kitamoto to meet a few youkai— hopefully ones friendlier than the shade that had attacked them earlier.

“I’m glad it’s over,” Takashi offered truthfully, even if it didn’t encompass everything he wanted to say. “Now I’m just… worried.”

Tanuma pulled him the tiniest bit closer as Taki made a sympathetic noise. “Understandable. But it’s okay, Natsume. Anything you can’t handle on your own, we’re all right here to help you with.”

Takashi tried to remind himself that of course they would; that logically, they wouldn’t abandon him after all time and effort they’d put into taking care of him. Nishimura and Kitamoto had even encountered Nyanko Sensei and the shade! Still, it was impossible to shake the well-ingrained fear that any normal human who got a true glimpse into the youkai world would end up hurt or would reject Takashi entirely. But even if they did think he was a monster, he had Tanuma and Taki at his side, and Nyanko Sensei would be there to protect them all from anything else that could go wrong. Right?

Takashi made a soft noise of agreement, but couldn’t quite bring himself to say anymore, even with Tanuma’s quiet support thrumming over the bond.

After that, they mostly fell silent, and Takashi forced himself to focus on soaking up the sunshine warmth on his skin and the chittering of birds as they walked toward the nearest patch of forest. They’d left the house with Touko-san’s blessing, ostensibly to get Takashi some fresh air, and while that wasn’t exactly a lie, guilt still crept over his conscience.

Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many youkai. When Nyanko had reappeared shortly after breakfast— with a façade of grouchiness to cover up obvious concern— he’d promised to bring in the… less wild of the youkai for Nishimura and Kitamoto to meet. But Takashi knew Sensei didn’t always have the best judgement when it came to powerful youkai, or the nicest attitude toward “tasty human snacks,” so that was just one more reason his anxiety had yet to fade.

The early summer heat was just starting to make Takashi wilt by the time they reached the cooler shade of the tree line. Five pairs of feet crunched noisily over dry sticks and leaves, and Takashi watched carefully out of the corner of his eye as a huddle of tiny youkai shrieked and fled away into the treetops.

“I’m getting a little nervous now,” Nishimura whispered loudly, head swiveling from side to side as he scanned the path. “How many youkai are we gonna meet?”

“I… don’t know,” Takashi admitted, more timidly than he’d intended. “But if Nyanko Sensei did what he said he would… only a few.”

Only a minute later, Takashi listened to the rumble of Misuzu’s distinctive laugh up ahead with some disappointment. That was _not_ an unthreatening youkai. A few steps farther, and Takashi spotted the edge of the clearing, unmistakably defined by Nyanko and Misuzu’s towering legs, Hinoe’s bright purple kimono, and… a blinding flash of wings?

“…Riou?” Takashi whispered, mostly to himself. He darted forward, ignoring Tanuma’s oddly strangled call as he did.

The youkai all looked up as Takashi came stumbling into the clearing.

“Took you long enough,” growled Nyanko, even as Hinoe swatted his flank.

“Human. Natsume.” Riou smiled, just as warm and overwhelmingly gentle as Takashi remembered. “It is good to see you once more. You’ve changed.”

“Riou,” Takashi murmured again, stunned. “But… I though you said you weren’t going to return to human realms anymore.”

“Yes, I did say that,” Riou said with a soft laugh. “And indeed, I will not be stepping foot outside this forest. But a certain bodyguard of yours asked a rather insistent favor, and I was inclined to agree to it. Do not worry, my followers will not be joining us this time.” His voice was wry.

“Natsume!” Tanuma yelled from behind, and suddenly, faintly trembling hands were wrapped around his arm.

The touch amplified the previously muted fear that pulsed though the bond, and Takashi spun, already searching for danger. “T-Tanuma?” When he looked, his mate’s gaze was fixed upward, directly into the eyes of—

“Tanuma, you— you can see them?” 

Shivering excitement and black horror twisted in Takashi’s chest, knotting together until it was a helpless tangle of hopes and memories; of old, desperate wishes for a friend who would _understand_ , and the phantom agony of endless injuries that no one could see and even Takashi could never stop.

“I— yes,” Tanuma said, barely above a breath. The bond was flickering so wildly Takashi could no longer parse any of his emotions. “They’re… good?”

“Natsume! Are you okay?” Nishimura screeched to a halt at his side, eyes scanning wildly over the clearing. “Is there something here?”

Kitamoto shushed him, for which Takashi was grateful. His head was spinning enough already.

“Ho,” Misuzu boomed, leaning in to study their group. “So these are your little friends?”

“Yes,” Takashi choked out. He forced his churning thoughts into the little box at the back of his mind and cleared his throat with some effort. “This is Nishimura, and Kitamoto, and Taki, and Tanuma, my— my mate.”

Misuzu loomed even closer, and Tanuma’s scent spiked with panic. “How wonderful. But it seems this one can see us?”

“I don’t know when that happened,” Takashi whispered. “…Tanuma?”

“I don’t know either. Everything was normal during your heat, but when I saw the clearing…” Tanuma looked down at his own hands as if expecting to find an answer there. “Was there anything to see on the way over?”

Takashi thought hard. “A few youkai, but it would’ve been easy to miss them. Can you… hear them too?”

Faintly, Tanuma shook his head. “If you were talking to—” he glanced up at the winged youkai before him, who was now watching with benign amusement.

“Riou,” Takashi supplied, because at least falling back on manners was safe. “He— he’s one of the lords of this area.”

“ _Lords?_ ,” Nishimura muttered, but Kitamoto shushed him once again.

“…talking to Riou.” Tanuma maybe looked ready to pass out. “Then I could only hear your half of the conversation.”

“Oh. But… how?” Takashi murmured shakily.

There was a moment of silence.

“Maybe the bond?” Nishimura suggested hesitantly. “If I’m understanding right.”

Tanuma tilted his head. “That’s… probably it. True mates _are_ supposed to have a stronger connection.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting it to be _this_ strong, although I guess we don’t have any other youkai-seeing pairs to compare it to.” Nishimura shrugged.

“Well, why don’t I take a look?” Riou offered mildly. All heads turned to him. “Hinoe informed me that she’s been monitoring Takashi thus far, but my abilities are more suited for handling spiritual connections.”

Takashi leaned in, a little desperate. “Could you fix it?”

“…Perhaps,” Riou said thoughtfully. “But I don’t believe there’s anything truly wrong. Is your hesitance because you wish to keep your mate separate from the world of ayakashi?”

Of _course_ it was. Introducing his friends to youkai was one thing, but if Tanuma was able to see them all the time…

He didn’t want Tanuma to live the same way he had for fifteen long years.

Riou must’ve taken Takashi’s silence for the answer it was, because he continued with a nod. “Either way, it’s worth studying. Come.” He extended his hands, one to Takashi and one to Tanuma. Takashi stepped forward, allowing Riou to place two fingers over his temple, and watched as Tanuma did the same a moment later.

A feather-light touch edged into his mind, and Takashi reflexively tensed as Riou tugged gently on the bond, feeling along the twining strands that linked Takashi and Tanuma’s thoughts. Distantly, Takashi recognized the faint burning scent of Tanuma’s fear, but a sharp crackle over the bond told him it was a response of fight, not flight. Even if it was futile, Tanuma’s reaction was reassuring, in a way. He wouldn’t be abandoning Takashi for anything less than being physically dragged off.

Riou didn’t linger, and when he drew back with a quiet hum, Takashi breathed a sigh of relief. At his side, Tanuma gripped his hand a little tighter.

“You are both exceedingly brilliant souls,” Riou told them with apparent delight. “And yes, Natsume’s Sight is bleeding over to you.” He continued with a nod at Tanuma. “Yours will be a happy future, I think.”

“So… there’s nothing you can do?” Takashi asked one last time.

Riou studied him for a moment. “As I said, the bond is as it should be. The only way to stop the transference of Sight would be to block the connection, and that…”

“Do that, and you’ll end up the way you were when you first came to see me,” Hinoe finished with a sniff. “I won’t let you undo all my hard work.”

Takashi refrained from mentioning that technically, she’d done very little to actually cure his Repression syndrome.

“Natsume,” Tanuma spoke up, laying a tentative hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m actually kind of glad this happened.”

“But…” _Aren’t you scared? How am I going to keep you safe?_

Gently, Tanuma pulled him in close, until their foreheads were touching and Takashi could smell his cinnamon comfort. “Ever since I found out we were mates, I’ve been wondering how I could possibly bridge the gap between your world and mine, and I think… I think this is perfect. And besides…” A shadow passed over his face. “This way I can protect you, too.”

Takashi breathed in. Breathed out. Slumped down enough to rest his cheek against Tanuma’s shoulder. “Okay.”

Tanuma brought his hands up to wrap around Takashi’s back, and even though Takashi could feel the weight of everyone’s stares over his skin, they all remained politely silent, at least for the moment.

“Very touching,” Misuzu rumbled once Tanuma loosened his hold, “but I believe we all gathered here for a rather different reason.”

“Oh!” Takashi stumbled back, ashamed. How quickly he’d gotten caught up in his own problems. “Right. Um, Taki?”

“On it!” She said brightly, giving him a subtle pat on the shoulder as she passed by. It didn’t take long for her to find a sizable tree branch and draw the circle, with a speed that spoke of long hours of practice and determination. Or desperation. Taki was so cheerful most of the time, it was easy for Takashi to forget that she’d spent a whole _year_ fighting against a force she couldn’t even see.

“I hope this is big enough,” Taki said as she stepped back, brushing dirt from her hands. She looked up and around expectantly.

Hinoe and Riou stepped over the lines first, light and graceful. Takashi heard gasps, but he didn’t look away until Misuzu and Nyanko’s giant noses and toothy grins too entered the boundaries of the circle.

“Oh,” Nishimura whimpered.

There was a moment of silence.

“Natsume,” Kitamoto said with a deliberate turn. “ _These_ are your friends?”

Misuzu roared with laughter. “Finally, humans with _sense_. What a wonderful change.”

Takashi decided he was offended by that, though he couldn’t explain why. “They’re not that strange. I just… end up meeting them when I go out.” Better not to say anything about the Book of Friends.

All eyes— even Taki’s— turned incredulously toward Takashi. 

“My legs are shaking,” Nishimura enunciated, as if he thought Takashi might understand him if he spoke slower. “They’ve got… auras or something; it’s like a damn anime.”

Takashi looked up again, taking in Nyanko and Misuzu’s towering beast forms, Hinoe’s sharp grace, and Riou’s blinding wings. It was an intimidating sight, but… still. “They do?”

“Honestly, brat,” Nyanko Sensei rumbled. “You should’ve been eaten years ago if this is how careless you always are.”

Hinoe tittered. “It’s why we’ve all ended up attached to the boy, isn’t it? Now. Shouldn’t you be getting around to making that offer, Lord Riou?”

“Ah yes. After Madara came to see me, I decided I would invite you to one of my domains, if you wanted a safe place to immerse your friends in the world of ayakashi. Not for long, of course, but if you are interested,” Riou said with a dip of his head.

Takashi’s mind raced. Youkai domains were fickle at best— occasionally harmless, but usually traps for humans or deadly in one way or another. He trusted Riou, but…

“What… what kind of domain?” He hedged.

Riou smiled gently. “A waterfall, a mere pocket of land. It is one of my personal retreats, and it will be empty. Fear not, human child, I am at least aware of the dangers ayakashi may pose to your kind, and I have arranged for measures to prevent them.”

“Then,” Takashi said slowly. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Riou gestured to the side. “It’s not far. Shall we go ahead now, before the day grows too hot?”

What else was there to do but agree? With one wide-eyed glance at his equally stunned friends, Takashi gripped Tanuma’s hand once more and followed Riou from the circle and away into the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and for your patience!
> 
> Find me crying on [ tumblr](https://thirdleaflogic.tumblr.com/)


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